My mother and her mother,
(four generations of mothers to be exact)
All conceived children They didn't want,
because They couldn't bear the alternative.

My sister and I are the only two who survived.
The intergenerational resentment
that is cast among each woman in our family
who decides to carry the burden of their unwanted child.

My mother loves us as much as she is capable-
Just like her mother and mothers mother before her.

Birthed into four generations of hurt,
that longed for acceptance and love that only a mother could give.
But each mother couldn't.

It took four generations of women and their pain
and longingness for love,
to create two women who are full of nothing but love
and are hungry to give it to the world

(we forgive you, because it's all you've known)