I was pregnant with our fourth child when my husband, Todd, left. There were no warnings, no fights — just a note on the nightstand saying he couldn’t do it anymore. At first, I thought he was overwhelmed, but the truth was far worse. We had just found out we were having another girl, and while I was filled with joy, Todd seemed distant. His smile never reached his eyes, and over the following weeks, he grew colder, locking himself in his office and barely speaking to me or our daughters.

One morning, I woke to find his side of the bed untouched and his belongings gone. The note was the only thing left behind. Days later, he finally called. His voice was cold as he admitted he left because he wanted a son, not more daughters. My heart broke as he said he was starting over with someone else. Months passed, and I focused on my girls, carrying on with life while preparing for the baby’s arrival. Then I heard through family that the woman Todd left for had drained him financially and left him.

Not long after, Todd appeared at my door, begging to come back. The girls peeked out from behind me, confused and hopeful. But I remembered his words and the pain he caused. With a steady voice, I told him he had already made his choice — then closed the door. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but also the most freeing.

Soon after, I gave birth to my fourth daughter, perfect and loved. With the support of my mom, we built a new life filled with love, laughter, and healing. Looking at my four girls, I knew our family was complete. Todd chose to leave, but I chose to stay — to love my daughters fiercely and unconditionally. He gave up everything, but I gained strength I never knew I had. And in the end, love won.