Not Yet!

It was September 2017, and my period was already five days late.

I was almost certain I was pregnant, but I was afraid to take the test because I was frightened of the result.

Then a friend reassured me that, based on what I had told her, the chances were small.

I had not been with anyone around the middle of my cycle, only during the first week — although that had been without contraception.

What were the chances of becoming pregnant then?

Pretty small.

And I already had hormonal problems.

I was not supposed to become pregnant easily.

I calmed myself down and took the test.

Positive.

Damn.

Yes, I want a child.

And I am almost thirty-five.

But this was not how I wanted to become a mother.

I barely knew the man I had become pregnant by.

He was eight years younger than me.

A foreign citizen.

Still a student.

He did not exactly give the impression of being a responsible future father.

Although I knew he wanted the baby.

But why?

Did he genuinely want a child?

Or did he want the legal status that might help him stay in the country?

What on earth was I going to do?

My thoughts raced through every possible solution.

I lived in a rented apartment.

I had no parental safety net.

There was not even a family home I could return to if something went wrong.

There was nobody in the world I could truly rely on except myself.

Did I want to become a single mother?

I could already see how difficult it was for couples even when there were two of them.

Especially when the grandparents lived far away.

I saw how much effort families needed simply to solve everyday crises — or just to get away together occasionally for a few hours.

Whenever I had visited a gynaecologist about my hormonal problems and they asked when I wanted children, my answer had always been:

As soon as I find the right partner.

In a way, I had been preparing.

I took vitamin D.

Folic acid.

I used ovulation tests so I would understand what my body was doing.

But I had never expected this.

And I did not want it this way.

The next two weeks were brutal.

I woke up in panic at night.

I had no appetite during the day.

Morning nausea.

Constant stress.

I made a decision.

I could not take responsibility for a child in this situation.

I did not want to give birth into uncertainty without even knowing where we would live or what kind of support the father would provide.

I am not Bridget Jones.

I am a strong woman.

But not that strong.

I was terrified.

I panicked.

I decided to end the pregnancy.

I had the procedure abroad because I did not want to go through the long process required at home.

I was already physically and emotionally exhausted.

I wanted it over as soon as possible, before the little life inside me developed further — if the pregnancy would even have continued, since a proportion of early pregnancies end naturally.

What I find strange is that in Hungary, if someone decides she cannot or does not want to continue a pregnancy, she must attend counselling twice.

Yet to become a parent, no counselling at all is required.

Sometimes, perhaps, it would not hurt.

I know many people judge me for my decision.

I struggled with it deeply too.

But I genuinely felt I would not have been able to cope in that situation.

I wanted the best for myself and for the potential child.

At the same time, several of my friends were desperately trying to become pregnant.

They went from treatment to treatment and nothing worked.

Life felt brutally unfair.

Unfair to them because they could not conceive.

And unfair because I, in my circumstances, could not accept the pregnancy with a peaceful heart.

I do not know whether I can or will ever have a child.

But I hope that in better circumstances, when I am ready, one will come.

Because somewhere inside me, a mother is there too.

Looking at everything that happened afterwards, I believe I made the right decision.

And I suspect the man really did want the baby primarily because of the paperwork.

I still long for a child.

For a family.

At the moment I am alone, although surrounded by friends.

They even invited me to spend Christmas Eve with them.

And still, I felt lonely inside during the holiday.

But I think I would have felt even lonelier if it had been only me and the small life growing inside me.

I still have the positive pregnancy test.

I could not throw it away.

---

Bálint would have been born in May.

That is the name I gave him because I always imagined he would have been a boy.

I want to end with a quotation:

“Before you judge me, put on my shoes and walk my road. Walk through my past. Feel my tears. Live through my pain and my joy. Take the steps I took and stumble over every stone that made me stumble. After every fall, stand up and continue the way I did. Only then can you judge me. Only then can you say you know me.”

(The cover image is only an illustration.)

Event photography – details.

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