That moment when two cells collide, in ecstasy. In desperation. In denial. In hope. In disbelief. The DNA is now the writing on your wall. Its destiny is already partially decided. The way you nurture your creation will give it shape and substance. But what of you? What of its creators? In one explosive moment you have changed. You are no longer just two lovers. Two beings who could spend hours wallowing in passion. Indulging in each other with fun and abandon. Sharing intimate secrets and little jokes. Those subtle moments of unadulterated love.
Quickly, she is consumed. A rush of hormones confirm to her that there is someone else who wants her. Someone else who needs her. She is sick and tired and he takes his cue to change sex for sympathy. He is already an outsider, who is drawn close to her for reasons he hasn’t exactly felt before. Unwittingly and instantaneously they are lovers of a different sort. She has a new obsession that isn’t quite as tangible to him. So he gently lays his head on her ever growing belly and only hears the swoosh of the cup of tea he made her because she said she was so tired.
He feels detached. He strokes her bump and tells her that he loves her swelling boobs, that she tells him not to touch. The start of her pain. The start of their painful separation from selfish lovers to givers. She gives them the ultimate gift and he watches the agony. He experiences the fear and whilst feeling very close to her, he has never felt so lonely, or so far away.
Then joy. An overwhelming desire to protect them both. They are a family. They are no longer two souls entwined in love for each other; they must now share. They must give up their special moments to exhaustion and physical pain. They must give everything they’ve got to another being, whose need is far greater than theirs. Their needs are neglected for the greater good. For something that they didn’t realise could make them feel the way they do. Milky love and tears. Smells they have never smelt on skin they never knew could be so soft.
Relentlessly giving. Never any time to step away; to step back to being two. Even on a longed for date night, you are three, or now four or five. Talking about what they do. Sharing in your joy at their milestones reached and worrying over everything you possibly can. Consumed. Exhausted. Fulfilled as a family. Separated as a couple. You know what’s going on, but you just don’t have time to act on it.
You will. You must. You know.