They talk about my “options,” as though this is a decision between vanilla and chocolate, not life and death
But you and I share a secret.
It’s a secret we share: me, your father, and a couple of doctors who have nothing positive to say about you, my little one. My little baby.
Do the details really matter? They say you won’t make it out alive.
But right now, you are alive.
I know you are. I can feel it, every moment of the day. So alive.
They talk about my “options,” as though this is a decision between vanilla and chocolate, not life and death.
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