Sanctity of life Sunday

Diary of an unborn child

Dear Diary,

October 5: Today my life began. My parents don’t know it yet, but I am here. I’m a girl; I’ll have blond hair and blue eyes. All my genetic imprints are present, also that I will have a weakness for flowers.

October 19: Some say I am not even a real person yet, and only my mother exists. But I am a real person, just like a crumb of bread is bread. My mother exists, and I do, too.

October 23: Now my mouth opens. In about a year I will be able to laugh and speak. I know what my first word will be: Mommy.

October 25: Today my heart began to beat. From now on it will beat for the rest of my life without ever stopping to take a break. Only after many years will it stop beating and I will die.

November 2: Every day I grow more. My arms and legs are forming, but it will be a long time until I can stand on those tiny legs and run into the arms of my mother, until I can pick flowers with those tiny arms and hug my father.

November 12: Tiny fingers are starting to grow on my hands. How small they still are! One day I will be able to stroke my mother’s hair.

November 20: Just today the doctor told my mother that I live beneath her heart. Oh, how happy she must be. Are you happy, Mommy?

November 25: Mommy and Daddy are probably trying to come up with a name for me. But they don’t know that I am a little girl. I would love to be called Susie. My, I have already grown so much!

December 10: My hair is starting to grow. It is soft and with a beautiful shine. Wonder what kind of hair Mommy has.

December 13: Soon I will be able to see. It is dark around me. When Mommy gives birth to me I will see sunshine and flowers. But the best will be to see my Mommy. I wonder what you look like.

December 24: I wonder if Mommy hears the whispers of my heart. Some children are born ill. But my heart is strong and healthy. It beats evenly: bum-bum, bum-bum. Mommy, you will have a healthy little daughter!

December 28: Today my mother killed me. ...

Author Unknown


You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me! (Psalms 139:13-18 NLT)