Plan A

                

I'm a planner. I like having a game plan ahead of time. I want to know about how things are going to happen and when they are going to happen. With that being said when you are pregnant, things don't always go by a plan. For instance, what you are going to eat doesn't always work out.

I got pregnant about 3 months after moving out of my ex's. It was not my ex's. The guy had a girlfriend actually, who happened to not be me. That wasn't part of any plans I had for myself at the age of 19.  I told my ex, and he wanted to be there for me no matter what I decided. Getting back together with my ex, pregnant with someone else's child? Yeah, not part of the plan.

For months and months, we bought things to prepare for a baby. My birthday consisted of diapers and onesies, baby shampoos and lotions. I would sit in the bathtub singing "You are My Sunshine" to the little life growing inside me and feeling her kicks with delight. My boyfriend bought a house and we painted the bedrooms colors I picked out. I started planning her nursery, yellow and grey and buying decorations and making decorations. We could do this.

That was Plan A. There was no doubt in my mind, that I couldn't do this.

Except, there was an idea that there was something better for her.

I would shush, the thought whenever it squirmed its way into my thoughts. I would reassure myself I was doing the right thing. Let me clarify abortion was never an option for me. The father suggested it out of fear and anxiety. I immediately shut him down. There was no way that was happening. No matter how much I tried to prepare for this baby, it didn't truly feel right.

As my tummy grew bigger, so did my fears and anxiety. I couldn't let this baby girl go without. Better yet, I didn't want her to watch me struggle to provide for her. I didn't want her to watch me and her father argue and fight over her. So, Plan B I decided to go the route of adoption.