i always thought i’d have a child at 27. that’s the age my mother had me, the age my grandmother was when she had my mother. but when i became pregnant at 27, it wasn’t the way i had seen it.

my husband at the time had begun an affair a few months prior, which at this point i was still unaware of. what i did know what that he was unhappy, i was unhappy. i had been using a nuva ring, but i had been late to put the new one in. in so many years i never considered i’d end up pregnant without having planned it. i was (am) ocd. i plan everything.

i was terrified to tell my husband of the pregnancy, more so because i was scared he’d want me to continue the pregnancy than anything else. but i needn’t be worried about that. after some awkward talk-around the issue i finally spat it out-i wasn’t ready for this. we weren’t ready for this. he agreed.

in fact, he wanted to leave for florida for a month to “figure things out.” he made his arrangements, i made my arrangements and appointments. on the morning i took the series of pills at home, he left for florida. left me to do it on my own. i had no regrets.

and i made the right choice. it is no surprise to me that our marriage ended. that day, i took control back over my life from a child posing as a man. a man who didn’t work while i worked 40+ hours a week while disabled. a man who left for florida that day to meet up with his girlfriend.

i am so grateful i had that choice to make.