Times are hard for a brand new life, especially in countries where poverty is rife, but its worse for those conceived in the West, they now have to survive the 'pregnancy test'. For 38 weeks I should grow in her womb, hoping it won't end up being my tomb, developing slowly as you will see, please don't start thinking of getting rid of me. At five weeks I am as big as a grain of rice, I have the beginnings of a brain; think twice! My spinal chord is beginning to be, imagine that when you eventually see me. A week later, comes my little head, with simple ears and eyes, well bred, my heart has two chambers, not yet four, its beating, don't stop it, I want to be more. From seven weeks my limbs start to grow, the miracle of life is what you should know, my heart has four chambers to keep up the pace, and like magic my nostrils appear on my face. I continue to develop I am two centimeters long, I long to survive, mother sing me a song, about my little fingers, and ten tiny toes, and she shall music where ever she goes. My head is not proportionate to the rest of me, its features will grow, like you I will be. If you look at me carefully you may also see, what sex I am, what I'm going to be. By the fourth month I can now suck my thumb, and my mother may feel me moving in her tum, not kicking, but like butterflies floating on air, and my body is covered with fine down-like hair. After five months I am half the size I will be, my legs are now in proportion with the rest of me, I will move about more to remind you and me, I'm here, alive, and I want to be free. At 24 weeks my main organs are formed, and my face is that of a baby newborn, I am able to hear, as you move in your bed, and my skin is wrinkled, thin and bright red. I am relieved to know that I am going to be, It has passed the time you can get rid of me. I will continue to grow in tranquility and peace, until the trauma of labor, then our pain will cease. 'Suffer little children to come unto me.' Don't call me yet, I just want to be, so tell me Savior, do you see a child, surviving down here is not meek and mild. S.M.
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