The Bump, the Emotional Pull

Somewhere in the last week, a switch got flipped. While just over a week ago, I could not have fathomed being a mother to a child, I now consider whether I could, what I could do to make it work. I am suddenly okay with becoming a mother at 26, which has always struck me before now as far too young for my own life.

There are tiny moments, encapsulated from reality, where I am struck by happiness. And as soon as the happiness hits, it's flooded out by loss, anger, frustration and guilt.

It's indescribably painful and lonely.

For me, the most startling and most difficult part of the last week has been watching my belly go from zero to 60 in a matter of days. I am a tall, slim, relatively-toned woman. I have fat on my body to be sure, but I've always been a very hourglass-shaped woman. My waist and middle have always been tinier.

On Wedneday, the day I read the at-home test, I saw no sign of a belly.

Thursday, the next day, I thought that I could maybe detect my uterus was pushing up from my pelvis, though I thought I was imagining or looking for things.

Friday, I again thought it looked like my belly was being pushed, particularly later in the day, but it was nothing too drastic.

But by Saturday night, getting ready for my boyfriend's birthday dinner at his mom's and attempting to put on various dresses, I realized that there was no question: I definitely had a bump. I stood in the mirror staring at it, trying on different clothes to see what hid it and wondering if I was panicking for no reason.

I mentioned it to my boyfriend when I picked him to go to dinner, but he didn't respond much. And suddenly I felt very alone. Here I am, seeing serious evidence that I am pregnant, and it's still not real for my boyfriend. We didn't really talk about it that night because my car broke down (rain-->pours) and we stayed with his mom that night.

But by Sunday night, it was even bigger. This time I showed my boyfriend.

"This wasn't here a week ago," I said.

"It wasn't here three days ago," he responded, his voice full of shock. And suddenly I felt like we were more on the same page. We marveled at my stomach, rubbing it and repeating over and over that it didn't feel real.

So many of the blogs I've read describe the frustration of feeling lonely, experiencing pregnancy symptoms alone, isolated from your partner, and working with your partner to feel on the same page or fully supported. It's definitely lonely. This potential life is inside of you, not him. How could he know?

But I am suddenly showing. And showing a LOT. I think that this huge change brought us together more. What tiny pregnancy symptoms I alone was identifying are eclipsed--almost literally--by my massive swelling belly. And that is a real, tangible thing that both of us can touch and feel and react to.

It's continued getting bigger, and last night--after our appointment, after celebrating my boyfriend's birthday with his dad and some friends--my boyfriend and I spent time looking at it and talking more about how it makes us feel and how it makes us feel about our decision.

For one, we both admitted that it is emotionally and physically arousing. We wondered what biological reason there is for us to be drawn together sexually by a baby bump. He wonders if it's a territorial instinct for him, and I think I have a very basic biological "You're-a-powerful-man" response toward him. I haven't read any other women planning to have abortions describe this feeling, but I haven't found that many second trimester abortion blogs out there. Any other women out there in my situation??

The bump also draws us together in our relationship emotionally. We feel drawn together. He feels a strong desire to protect me, and I feel a desire to be protected by him. Where no desire to be parents existed before, there's excitement. And you can't help but look at the bump as, yup, a miracle. As my boyfriend put it last night, "I want to take a picture of it... but I don't, I can't."

Finally, the bump makes us both incredibly, incredibly sad. It's heartbreaking. To feel all these things in a very real way, to see this physical manifestation of our feelings, and to choose that the responsible thing for us and for this potential life is not to bring it to term. The weight and pain of the choice weighs so heavily that I literally feel exhausted and can almost feel pressure on my chest and shoulders as I think about it.

So, even after our appointment, I feel ambivalence, fear and sadness. Not that I didn't expect to. We've accepted that it's just going to continue to get harder. My belly will grow for the next 5 or 8 days--however many days until I can have the procedure, and we will still feel reactions to it. I'm sure that those feelings will linger, change and evolve over time, but right now, this is the most difficult thing I've faced.