A letter from a fetus on the way to the abortion clinic

In a couple years, you'll hear me say your name. A lot. In fact, I'll be saying it for the rest of my life, if you'll let me. I know this is not the right time for you. I'm sorry. I'm an inconvenience. In fact, you're smart enough to recognize I will be an inconvenience for at least 18 years, which is why you came here.

I don't want to die. You might think that I can't really express such things so young. I won't be able to express anything close to that for several years, but I will react to pain. Please don't hurt me. This isn't for my good. God gave me to you to take care of my life. He'll take care of my death.

If you don't want me, can you take care of me until some other parents will take me off your hands? Can you give me a few more months? There are so many families who can't make their own babies. They would love to have someone like me. They consider the inconvenience of my life pure joy. You could bring so much joy out of this mess you feel you are in. Right now, you are doing something for another human no one else can. Please don't miss this opportunity. I'm a gift to you for a short time, whether it be a few months or 18 years. If only for a few months, then I am a gift for someone else. Please don't destroy me.

Your Baby.


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