We’re both AS. We found out after three years of dating, just as we started talking about marriage. I cried the day we learned that nature, no matter how much we loved each other, seemed to have other plans.

We talked. We disagreed. We even fought about it. Eventually, we decided to let go, so we could each find something that could work with other people.

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But love like this isn’t easy to let go. We fell back into each other’s arms a few times. Each time, the intimacy was so passionate it felt like our last days on earth. We just didn’t want to let go.

A year after agreeing to part ways, I found out I was pregnant.

It broke me into pieces. It broke him, too. He wanted me to keep it. Part of me wanted to as well, but the potential consequences terrified me. I said, “We shouldn’t have it. We are troubled enough without bringing more trouble into our lives.”

Days later, it was gone. The pain was immense, but I told myself, “It’s better than what we would have faced if I’d kept it.”

He came and stayed with me. He helped me through the physical and emotional pain. He gave me his shoulder to cry on. When I needed warmth on my abdomen, he said, “Let me handle that.”

We’ve moved past that moment, but we’re still clinging to the love we share. He recently asked me, “Would it be too much if we married and didn’t have children?”

I answered, “I don’t know. But I want to have children.”

He goes away, and then he comes back, knocking on my heart to give him another chance. Nothing has fundamentally changed. We still get intimate, only now we tell ourselves we’re not officially dating.

Now, I’m starting to consider his proposal. That we should marry and accept a life without children of our own. What if I’m meant to find love but not motherhood? What if I have children with someone else who doesn’t love me a quarter as much as this man does? I ask myself these questions every day.

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I want it all—love, children, a happy home, everything. So I’m asking: what’s the worst that could happen if I marry him? AS to AS. Uncertainties piled on more uncertainties. What would you have done? Let go completely? Or stay, and build a life without children?

—Becky

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