With chubby cheeks and thunder thighs,
This baby grows before my eyes.
That mothers milk, beloved repast,
It has him growing full and fast.
Don’t blink now. You cannot replace,
Those early days filled with God’s grace.
With hair of silk and skin so fine,
I’m joyous in this choice of mine.
In choosing I did hesitate,
With God I did participate.
In looking back I wonder how,
This pregnancy God did allow.
I nearly spat into His face,
And visited that awful place.
Where death is somehow said to earn,
Equality, but I discern,
With termination comes regret,
And trying hard just to forget.
The gift of life He offered me,
When He was hanged upon the tree.