When my son was being brewed in his mum's tummmy we found out that he had a problem with how his brain was developing. The doctors had never seen it before. At one point we did not know how he would turn out, whether he would be okay.
 
I was writing a weblog even before we found out, and  a couple of years after my son was born I got an email from a couple who were going through exactly the same thing and had read the story. They had the same decision we had, and my story helped them out. Their son is doing fine as well.
 
Richard Dawkins said that evolution was like the work of a blind watchmaker. It struck me that every child is the same, we are all the work of that watchmaker.

This poem is about choices.