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This is a letter I wrote when I found out I was pregnant at twenty-one in August of 2001. There is not one day that goes by that I don't think of what it could have been, of who this kid would be.

It was only a partial embryo, the possibility of a baby. But that baby had been conceived under influence of drugs and alcohol and... it's just hard sometimes... this is what I wrote:

The Unspeakable Letter

You came to me at a time of turmoil. I had wished for you, wanted you, the way a child wishes for a baby brother brought by the stork.

When I found out, July 15th, five years ago as I write these words, at 10:16 at night, staring in disbelief at the white plastic stick with two glowing pink lines that stuck out to me and made me numb, made me ache, made me choke. Both pink lines flashing like a yellow light about to turn red, I suddenly became very still. My hand shook, my heart dropped. I didn't want to believe it.

I'd heard it happened, seen countless movies with actresses brilliantly playing their parts, making you think "What if that was me?"

Twenty-thousand thoughts raced, fifty-miles per second, like a freight train with faulty breaks.

That very minute, my childhood was over. I dropped the white plastic stick. Staring at the walls, a wave of desperation swarmed over me.

I'm keeping it... It grows inside me.

The magical spark of life that he and I had ignited... That night where the new life I'd chosen for myself crumbled... That night I'd had to leave, that I'd never see him again and I was careless. I'd wanted to feel all of him, keep a part of him with me when I'd leave.

I surrendered, body, soul, mind, and everything else I didn't even know I could surrender...

He wasn't supposed to be able to have kids. I had no concept of conception and thought I'd get away with it... That night, though, I had looked in his eyes and secretly wished to bear his child. A part of him and me. Of us.

However, as I was back in the bedroom where I used to be a child, I kept still. Unable to hear or feel a single thing. Then, I broke down and cried all my tears, hacking sobs. I felt so alone yet inside the pearl I could come to carry reminded me I was no longer alone.

When I was able to breathe again, when the shock faded-like a blanket gently pulled away from the top of my head-I took a long breath and swallowed hard.

For the first time in my life, I would have to make a decision.

Learn more about this author, Tash Lavalley.
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