I was lost. Although I had never imagined myself as a mother at the time, I knew it couldn't happen the way it was going to. I was despondent and caught in a physically, emotionally and sexually abusive relationship. I didn't need a child. I needed help. During this terrible time, I experienced a clear realization that if I went forth with this pregnancy, my baby would suffer.
As I settle into my pregnancy, I fantasize about the human I’m going to bring into the world. I picture a girl. Beautiful. Black. Freckled like her father. Myopic like me. When she is thirteen we will sit down and have the talk. Not about periods. Or boys. Or girls. Or bodies. Or pets. Or HBCUs. Or sex. But about getting a perm.