I always said
I didn’t want to
have children. Who
would want to bring life
into such an
awful world as ours?
But somehow I
was persuaded, by
my friends and my
family and things
I read, that I
was supposed to want
a baby. So
when I got pregnant
by accident,
I decided it
was meant to be.
But if that was true,
then it must have
been meant to be that
I would get that
infection, too. That
I would die. That
my son would die with
me, before he
could experience
the world at all.
Don’t look for meaning.