For Love or Money

My period was two weeks late. I didn't want to be pregnant. I didn't want to have an abortion. But more than anything, I didn't want to hear my boyfriend say what he did: "Don't worry, honey, of course I'll pay for the abortion."

The first time we had said "I love you," I had this vision of Michael holding my hand as I gave birth to our first child. In the year since then, we've talked seriously about what our future might look like. He bought a condo last Christmas and frequently hints that I should move in with him. To me, that means marriage and kids aren't far behind. But though Michael would propose tomorrow, the idea of becoming a father horrifies him, so we've agreed on nothing. Getting pregnant accidentally was not how I'd meant to resolve the issue, and I was sickened that Michael would try to buy his way out.

At his insistence, we'd once discussed what we would do in this situation. Knowing I might feel different if I really did get pregnant, I was hesitant to go on the record and told him carefully, "From where I stand now, I'd abort." After all, I joked, I wasn't ready to give up my sexy, six-pack abs. And yet here I was, potentially pregnant. I'd never been more than three days late in my entire life, and I was panicked. The pregnancy test I bought at the local drugstore was negative, but I was sure I'd peed on it wrong or that it was too soon to tell. I had blood drawn, and we waited fretfully for the results.

For better or worse, the expectation was already set. If the test came back positive, the only unsettled question would be how to finance the abortion. I was a starving grad student, so it was logical to Michael that the monetary burden would fall on him, a successful professional. But I wasn't running on logic, and his well-meant offer drove a fist into my stomach. At first, I was furious at the challenge to my independence. His words showed that he assumed I didn't have the resources to take care of myself, but my insurance covers abortion. And besides, I had some cash tucked away in an emergency savings account. I didn't need his money. Then I decided that his eagerness to pay for my abortion proved he'd never want to have children with me. I already had them named! I'd picked out their colleges! And all he could say was "I'll pay you not to have kids"?

I knew I was overreacting, but while I pondered the true reason why Michael's offer bothered me, I could not calm down. Every time he touched me, I burst into tears. I was horrified that my boyfriend wished an abortion on me; I was ashamed that all the care I'd taken not to get pregnant hadn't been enough; and I was heartbroken that although I've always wanted to have kids, I could see no possible way to have this one. But I was far too upset to articulate any of that.

In spite of my unexplained anger and tears, Michael seemed confident that our relationship would survive this trauma. At the peak of my mania, I considered forcing my domestic dream life on him by choosing to keep the baby. With such thoughts in my head, I was amazed that he trusted me to make the right choice. But he did. I saw his faith in the way he kissed my nose when I was too upset to offer my lips, in the calm gaze locked on me in the dark while I cried.

Slowly, it dawned on me: Offering to finance an abortion was the wrong thing for Michael to do, because it made me feel as though money, not my own thoughts and feelings, was the deciding factor. I wanted to know that he would hold my hand no matter what I chose to do. But though his action was all wrong, his belief in our relationship was unwavering. By the time my period arrived on the 15th late day, I was finally ready to buy it.

Leah Bloom, 26, is a freelance writer. Send e-mails to coupling@globe.com.