Mother and Son: Pure Hatred

Summary

My mother's body was frail, and she went through hell to conceive me.

The doctors said I wouldn't make it, but she insisted on keeping me.

Hormone shots, nutrient injections—they were a daily ritual. After each one, I would stir uncomfortably in her womb, a wave of sickness washing over me. Even then, my mother would grit her teeth through her own pain to soothe me.

"Be a good baby," she’d whisper. "You have to grow up healthy and strong."

Her morning sickness was severe. She'd eat, throw up, and force herself to eat again, all so that I would be healthy.