Pregnancy is often described as one of the most joyful, transformative times in a woman’s life. But for me, it was the opposite. This is when my relationship with my boyfriend began to unravel, and the man I thought I loved became a stranger. The shift was drastic, almost like a switch flipping from day to night. What once felt like love turned toxic, and I found myself in an environment filled with mental, verbal, and eventually, physical abuse. Things got bad. Really bad.
I remember being embarrassed about my pregnancy. It’s not something you hear often—someone hiding their pregnancy—but that was my reality. I didn’t share the news with many people, concealing it as long as I could. By the time I was seven months pregnant, most people had no idea. I’d only gained about 20 pounds, which helped me keep the secret. But, the weight I carried emotionally was far heavier than anything I put on physically.
The most painful part of my pregnancy wasn’t even the morning sickness or the discomfort. It was the relationship I was trapped in. Nights were long, spent crying alone, questioning my worth. The verbal abuse became a constant echo in my mind—name-calling, belittling, tearing me down until I no longer recognized myself. The arguments? They were frequent, and often escalated to something physical. I would look at myself in the mirror and ask, “How did my life get here? How did I, someone who always prided herself on being strong and no-nonsense, end up in this situation?”
I’ve always been the type of woman who wouldn’t tolerate disrespect. So, why was I tolerating it now? Why was I still holding on to a relationship that was clearly falling apart, with so much abuse? One line still haunts me to this day. I’ll never forget when he told me, “I’m only with you because you’re pregnant.” That cut deeper than anything else he ever said. It was the final blow to my already fragile spirit.
Despite the abuse and the painful words, I wanted this to work out. I desperately wanted to be a family, even though, deep down, I knew better. I knew he wasn’t the right person for me, especially after seeing how he’d handled his past relationships—two other families, neither of which he had time for. Yet, there I was, hoping against hope that he’d change for me, that he’d change for us.
But why? Why was I so fixated on making him love me? I’d never had trouble attracting men before. I was an attractive woman, used to male attention. So, why was his validation the only one that mattered to me? And more importantly, why was I letting someone treat me this way?
These are the questions I struggled with every day. It took time, reflection, and a lot of heartache to start finding the answers. My pregnancy was supposed to be a time of new beginnings, but it became the darkest chapter of my life. Yet, even in the darkest times, there are lessons. This journey forced me to face my own fears, my self-worth, and ultimately, the realization that I deserved better.
If you’re in a similar situation, know this: you are not alone. You are not defined by someone else’s inability to see your worth. And above all, you deserve love that lifts you up, not drags you down.
The Fourth Trimester 