Time
'You were just a small bump unborn. Four months then brought to life.'
Four months. Four months until I have a baby. This was definitely not part of the plan. I was going to be consultant before this happened. I was going to be married, or at the very least in a real relationship. I never have deviated from my perfectly mapped out plan. Exams have been passed first time; posts have been secured first time. My career has followed the route I planned at 16, so why hasn't the rest of my life?
One night. One night of stupidity. I knew I had drunk too much. I should have just gone home. I wanted to prove to myself I wasn't losing 'it', whatever 'it' may be. I hadn't. Or he took advantage of my desperation. I was reckless, careless. It's my own fault. I should have known better. I don't make mistakes. I pass first time. I made a huge mistake that night.
Two weeks. Two weeks ago I accepted it. I stopped ignoring what had happened. I stopped denying it to myself – a virus, put on weight, working too much. I was starting to show. There was a definite bump there. I couldn't keep kidding myself anymore. Those two blue lines were there. They were engrained on my eyes. Two blue lines. Positive. It really was happening.
Ten minutes. Ten minutes of seeing my little girl for the first time. She's really there, my little girl. It really is happening. She's there. Her heart is beating, her legs and arms flailing. It was a mistake. I will never do it again. She could never be a mistake. She is mine. I love her already.
'Cause you are my own and only'