The doctor told her

“This pregnancy can kill you.

Your body likely can’t carry to term.”


“Nobody knows you’re carrying

There will be no shame

No guilt if you terminate.”


“Even if people knew

They would understand . . .

Think about your husband

Your parents

Your family and

Your friends.”


She knew,

of course she knew

Everyone knew

She wouldn’t, couldn’t conceive

This wasn’t suppose to happen

This wasn’t planned.

Her disease, her body

Couldn’t take a pregnancy.

“Talk it over” the doctor said.

“This isn’t an easy decision”

He said.


But in her heart

She made up her mind.

She would risk her life

For the slim chance of birth.

I imagine it wasn’t popular

there were empty platitudes

I imagine words were spoken

Behind her back and

To her face.


We can’t always explain love

Love doesn’t always listen to sense.

Today, love laid in her casket

Today, love packed the church

Today, love poured out in tears

Today, a one year old

stole a last look

At the one who gave her life

The one who gave her love.

Because the unreasonable love of mothers

Is the meaning of history

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