Today is Thursday.  I was at the clinic Monday morning and took abortion pills Monday night.

A little piece of me broke down today. I got home from work, lay on my bed and cried.

I’m 26. I don’t know when the right time is.  The right time to start a project. The right time to make a change.  The right time to be a mom.  Is there ever an ideal time? Does a woman ever ACTUALLY know when she is ready?

I took a test. A large pink line grew across the screen. The test results appeared negative.

I threw the tester at him. “You see! It’s negative.!”

A minute later a light pink line grew partnering the first. I tripled checked the directions.

I was pregnant.

My heart skipped a beat and he looked at me with love.

I can’t, I thought. My mouth was shut.

I haven’t done shit with my life. I couldn’t have a child without having done something I am proud of. How will I provide for this child if I can barely provide for myself. How will I accept another when I am learning to love myself.

Having a child might have meant ending up on the street.

I can’t I finally said and lay down in bed.

His arms covered me. I didn’t want him to rub my belly.  He who loves me unconditionally. He said he would support any decision I made.  I knew deep down he was ready emotionally.

We are both working adults that make ends meet. We live paycheck to paycheck and try as hard as we can.

I couldn’t think of raising a child under two people not in the right mental or financial state.

I made my decision and felt it was right for me.  I couldn’t imagine myself having a child, not now.

We all make our decision based on different circumstances.  It is our body and our decision.  We should have this right.