They say the birth of an infant is a beautiful miracle, yet the very act of childbirth separates mother from child forever; it creates an alien creature, with a heart that may never beat in time to yours again.
I can tell you that on the point of death, there is a delicious retreat into the infant that we all begin as. The final beats of the heart will echo the rhythm memorized in the womb.
I compress a meandering, pitiful excuse for a life into its most beautiful, precious first moment.
Am I not, then, a saint?
Avada Kedavra.