“Splitting my cells? Right now, no I won’t
I can’t be a vessel for the clone version of me to come forth
It’s an incomplete project so I quit, I abort
I put this project on hold
Starting over to rewrite this chapter
Editing the information encoded in me because,
I refuse to pass down this curse; You’re welcome because,
I saved you”
I remember he use to beat the s*** out of me. I remember the time when he pulled patches of my hair out leaving parts of my scalp exposed. I remember him telling me I was a crippled bitch and that I should shut the fuck up. I remember him throwing me out his apartment telling me to walk my ass home. It was raining too and he did this in front of his cousins and homeboys. I remember begging him not to go see his side bitch and he literally knocked me to the ground spitting on my face. I remember almost being choked to death in many of his drunken rages. I remember I was only 22 when I found out I was pregnant with his baby.
Instant joy turned into instant fear and sorrow. Here I was working a part time minimum wage retail job, on disability and involved with a man who was an abusive drunk. He was in jail on a gun charge and I was alone pregnant running up my phone bill, on the brink of bankruptcy. Everything that my parents thought I would be went down the drain. The high achiever, the one that always been “good” and “was gonna make something out of herself one day” fucked up. I saw myself sentence to a life I seen my grandmother live. I couldn’t stand the thought that this would be my reality and I couldn’t live with the guilt that I would bring someone into this world along for the destructive ride.
She (I always had a feeling my unborn child was a girl) could have been bold and care free. She could have been fearless and pursued every dream coded in her to do. But it would have been difficult with the things she would have inherited from me. I was programmed from the women in my family to accept unavailable men and abuse as a form of love. I had low self esteem and she would have been me reincarnated. She would have choose men like I did. She would have spent countless nights drowning in Martel and Hennessy to numb the pain. It would have not been fair to have her fight battles I should have already conquered.
Do I feel guilty for my abortion? No. I would have felt more guilty allowing her to witness the life I was living. When I stopped her from growing in this nutrient deficient womb I didn’t feel sad, I felt relieved. I did something good for once. I do not look back and feel ashamed because what’s done is done and it wasn’t the right time. I’m not encouraging women to have abortions, but I am encouraging people in general be more responsible in creating another life. To many familiar scripts are being played out right now.
Take creation seriously; your baby is your business literally.
Ticking clocks, easing loneliness, or being in love aren’t good enough reasons to create a child. It needs to be a strategic and responsible decision that is well thought out and well planned. What will be locked inside his/her cells to live with? Debts and doubts? Or gifts and assets? Do the work necessary to break generational curses by changing your thoughts and habits. Create a new code to live in. Rewire yourself and then find someone who matches your energy and then create your fruit. You won’t be perfect but you will be progressive.
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