I lift my shirt. My six back isn't there anymore, being replaced by a small bump. The bump is small, round, and smooth. There's baby is growing inside of me. Not just any baby. My baby. A baby, I'm creating. A beautiful little baby.
I don't know the gender, but I will love my baby with everything in me. Even though my cracked, I'll do everything in my power to make sure my baby doesn't crack. He or she will be strong like their daddy.
My baby won't be fucked up like I am. He or she will be mentally healthy. My baby will be everything I am not.
Hands wrap around me, putting their hands on my bump. A pair of lips touches my mark. Looking in the mirror, I see my baby's daddy caressing my bump.
"You look beautiful carrying our child." Matthew whispers in my neck.
"I don't want her or him to turn out like me." I watch in the mirror as a tear leaks from my eye.
He brings a hand up to my cheek and wipes it away. "I do."
I look into his eyes through the mirror. "You want our child to be crazy?"
"I didn't mean it like that. I meant that I want her or him to be strong like you. Anyone that goes through what you do, are the strongest of us." He elaborates.
"You think so?" I ask him not taking my eyes off his.
"I know so." Matthew turns me in his arms. Kissing me gently, he then pulls away. "My love you are strong. Your diagnosis makes you who you are. You are beyond strong. Never forget that."
I nod my head, then I press my lips to his. The kiss is gentle and sweet. Just like this moment.
I hope it's always like this with him. In the short time I've been with him, I've come to love. And I love him even more for giving me my baby.
