To my daughter

How can I make this decision? How can I look down at your innocent face, sleeping peacefully in my arms, and not feel the wrench of pain inside me? Not feel my heart tear asunder? Every time you move, every time a sweet sigh escapes your newborn lips, you twist the dagger that is already buried deep inside my heart. 

I can feel his eyes on me, the stern and unrelenting stare.  His disapproval hangs in the air like an oppressive weight. It is because of him that I sit here now, trying not to cry as I hold you for the last time in my arms. No, that’s not quite fair. I started down the path that led us here nine months ago, that night at the party, although I didn’t know what the consequences would be. But it is because of him that I will not watch you grow, will not be there to dry your tears or share your laughter.

They tell me that the pain will fade, that time eases all suffering, that it is better this way. But I do not believe them. This sort of pain will never go away and I will live with it for the rest of my days. All I can do is hope and pray that someday, far in the future, you will forgive me.