I was 19 weeks pregnant and so happy about my pending single motherhood when I found out my son was diagnosed with Chromosome 9 Trisomy.
I’d known the baby’s father since I was five years old, and he was more of a friend than anything. But his actions had told me he wanted nothing to do with the pregnancy. The worst part for me was that I chose to be a mom anyway, and now I won’t get to be that, at least not for a while.
My son made me dream about things that I’d never thought of. I yearned to hold him, hug him, kiss him and tell him that no matter what, I loved him in so many different ways. During this pregnancy, many people said my glow was of pure, unconditional and unselfish love.
I chose to end my wanted pregnancy because I could not bear to lose my son in my womb, or after birth. There are some thing you can bear, and others you cannot.
It’s hard to feel this precious being kick me to let me know he is there. In my heart I hope I can heal and be able to forgive the people that made my pregnancy a tough one. I find consolation that my son knows and feels my love.
His name would have been Triston.