I AM CHILDLESS TODAY BECAUSE I THREW AWAY MY DISABLED ONLY CHILD -ANONYMOUS LADY SHARES STORY

I don’t know if I deserve forgiveness. Maybe this is my own cross to carry till the day I die. Anytime people ask why I don’t have a child of my own at this age, I just smile and tell them “It’s God’s time.” But deep down, the truth is darker than anybody can imagine.

I had a child once. My only child. But I threw that child away with my own hands.

I was very young when it happened. I had just gotten married, and everyone in my family saw me as the lucky one. My husband was working in Lagos, life was looking good. So, when I got pregnant, joy filled the whole house. My mother told me I would give birth to a great child her words, not mine. I also believed it.

But the day I gave birth, everything changed.

My baby didn’t cry immediately. The nurses rushed up and down. When they finally placed the child in my arms, I noticed something was wrong. His legs looked twisted and the nurse said he might never walk.

In that moment, fear entered me. Not love but fear.

People around me started talking. “These kind of children bring problems.” “What if it’s a curse?” “Her husband’s people will mock her.” Even my own mother, the same woman who prophesied greatness, started pushing me to “try again” for a better child.

I didn’t even get to name him.

The day after I gave birth, my husband had to travel for work, then my mother told me we should “take the baby somewhere.” I didn’t ask questions I followed her. We went to a riverbank. She said, “Just drop him here, another woman will find him and take him.”

I still remember the sound of his small cry when we left him there. That tiny sound still hunts me in my sleep.

We came back home empty-handed. My mother told everyone the baby died after birth. My husband believed it, cried small, and moved on. And me? I pretended like nothing happened, but a part of me died that day.

Years passed. I tried to get pregnant again. I prayed, fasted, cried. But nothing happened. Every hospital visit ended in the same sentence:

“Madam, you have secondary infertility.

Sometimes I sit alone and wonder: What if my child survived? What if someone picked him up and raised him? Maybe he’s out there somewhere, alive hating me.

If I could turn back the hands of time, I would fight for him. I would protect him. I would love him loudly and fiercely. But regrets don’t give second chances.

Now I am childless not because God failed me, but because I failed my own child.

If you are reading this, please don’t ever let society shame you into throwing away your blessing. Disabled children are not curses. The real curse is a heart that cannot love.

May God forgive me because I don’t think I will ever forgive myself.