Don’t come after me for this post.

I discovered I was pregnant with my little man when I was five weeks in. I know that children are blessings in this world, but I wasn’t ready. I had only been with the man I was dating for five months, and I was just at the start of my writing career. (Looking back, it may have been my peak.)

I cried.

I cried so hard because I felt like my life was over.

Hearing that a baby was a blessing, was just a saying. I didn’t understand what it meant. Growing up, I saw the struggles. The mental and emotional roller coasters that come with being a parent, and I didn’t want that responsibility.

And though I understood that it was my choice to have unprotected sex, I had asked, “Why did this happen?” Like I didn’t understand the simple science of it.

And then, for a few days I’ll admit, I thought… Do I want to have this baby?

I couldn’t believe such a thought could cross my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I was disappointed and hurt that I could even think of such a thing.

So my choice…. bring this baby into the world.

Provide for it. Care for it. Love it.

Three and half years later, I was faced with another decision.

My relationship with my son’s father had been on the rocks since I was pregnant.

We had our really good days and we had our shitty days. Some days I felt like I could love him forever, and other days I questioned why I was here. At some point, it felt like I was living with someone who wanted me to take care of them. I was living with someone that was a roommate, a stranger. A man who was attached to a couch, online gaming, and lingering eyes since I was three months into my pregnancy.

After I became a mom, my patience with everything else in life was little to none.

I am surprised how long we went on.

The thoughts of ending our relationship was sad. But they were occurring more frequently. I couldn’t ignore it. I would dread coming home to him. I knew that our relationship wasn’t normal. I knew that this wasn’t the relationship I wanted. But, I wanted my son to have a household I didn’t. So I held on.

I held on for years.

Then I made the decision.

And based on the parent he was while we were together, I could guess the kind of parent he was going to be while we were apart. I hoped otherwise of course, but as time goes on now, I know I was right.

I ended our relationship.

The moment he left the house, was the moment I became a single parent. I knew it was coming.

I didn’t just end a relationship with my sons father, but I made their relationship scarce, and I ultimately choose to raise my son alone.

I want to make a few things clear. He is not completely out of my sons life. He answers the phone when my son calls. He sees him for a few hours some Saturdays. He has asked to take my son with him to his girlfriends house with her parents, but it’s not something I feel comfortable with. (There will be more posts to shine a light on that subject). But I take care of his everyday needs. I don’t think of taking care of my son’s needs as a negotiation. I do it because I am his mother. I have no choice. His father… has a choice. Apparently.