There is one thing that every human being prays never happens to them. The loss of something irreplaceable,
something unbearable. The loss of a child. Today, there were no hymns sung, no mourning family, and no sympathy
cards. Just myself, a bloody blanket, a dead child, and a river. Eisenhower once said “There is no tragedy in life
like the death of a child. Things never go back to the way they were.” That, however, is exactly what I wanted. I
wanted things to go back to the way they were, without the torturing of another soul.

Pregnancy wasn't a beautiful glowing time for me. It was a time of shame and fear. At first, I was overjoyed.
There was going to be at least one person in this world who would love me unconditionally. There was never any
doubt that I was carrying a girl. I chose to name her Mercy, hoping the name would bring her the act from those
around her. I told him one evening, expecting at least some sign of humanity. After all, he was soon to become a
father. I did see one emotion. I saw a deep flicker of resentment. We never mentioned the baby again. He simply
pretended he did not know that a child would be coming into our lives. At first, I tried to be protective, and try
not to get hurt so often, and kept my mouth shut to ensure this. To protect this child from physical abuse was my
every waking thought. It was the thoughts of my deep subconscious that began to haunt me.

One night near the end of my pregnancy, I had a dream. It started out with a beautiful baby girl, laughing in
the kitchen. My dream then jumped to her first steps on the dirt floors of the place she would call home. I then
saw a crying child, and his hands shaking her small shoulders. I saw fingerprints on her arms and bruises on her
cheeks. Reality came crashing down around me. A child would never be safe in this house. This child would be forced
into a world of poverty and inescapable, unjust abuse. I also realized it was too late for any other options; he
already knew, and I would not have had the money to fix this either way .

When the time came that I was to deliver my child, He must have noticed the change in my condition, as he left
for the factory early without a word. I knew what had to be done. The first cry that escaped her throat did not
deliver me to wonder and amazement that I created this miniature version of myself. It brought the weight of my
decision crashing down on my chest. I looked upon this small perfect child, so full of innocence. I knew what this
child was destined to become, and that she could never escape it. I thought the first time she spoke out, or the
first time she tried to escape here. I knew this story well, as it is the story of my past. I could not be
responsible for a child living in this world. There was only one thing to do to spare my doomed child, and I did
it.
He came home late in the day. “ Were is the kid?” he asked.

“It died. Wasn't born right.” was all I said before he grunted and walked away. I have succeeded. It is
exactly like it was before, with no one else to suffer.