When I found out I was pregnant the first question I was asked was "Do you know what you're going to do?". "Keep it" I responded. This seemed to be the right answer. They said nothing but left me alone.  Maybe that was all I wanted.

My boyfriend said to me 'If you'd have wanted an abortion then I would have left you'.  Maybe I knew this already.

I did not enjoy being pregnant. By day I walked around in bubble, feeling numb, like a zombie, going through the motions. At night I wondered what a miscarriage might be like.

I remember sitting in the toilets at college - looking at the student scribbles on the walls - they were so remote from my life. I wanted to write "I'm living with a man I hate and my life is crap and I'm pregnant". Other people had no idea how lucky they were.

One night I lay in bed, with my hands on my stomach. "We'll be ok, you and me," I said out loud to the bump in front of me. But I couldn't help still feeling alone, and far from ok.

I never let on that I couldn't tell the difference between a kick and a twinge.

It's hard to find the right words to describe the day my son was born. When I saw him I was completely overwhelmed with the amount of love I felt. This was my baby - It was a life. And my heart gushed out more love than I ever felt was humanly possible. There it was in an instant. The most amazing thing. The bubble popped. It was real. I became real.

I have never equated my son with the intrusion in my stomach that didn't feel right, that didn't feel real. The way I feel about the two couldn't be more different. I wish more than anything I could know that, had I been given the support to choose back then, I still would have chosen this. But I have been denied that comfort by those that tried to make it their choice.

And so I will always feel like I have some making up to do. For the time before I chose that we would be ok.


You and me.