I remember the exact moment I realized my period was late. I had just broken up with a narcissistic boyfriend who had been cheating on me throughout our entire relationship. I had finally walked away, finally chosen myself, and then… I thought I was pregnant.
Nothing prepares you for the thoughts that flood your mind in that moment. My whole life could change in a second, and I had no control over any of it. I was still in high school, set to start at my dream college that fall. I had just broken free from an emotionally abusive relationship and now that freedom looked fleeting. Fear and panic took over. I can’t tell him. I wouldn’t even want him raising this baby, so I’ll be doing this alone. What will everyone think of me? My parents are going to kill me. This was not the plan.
I was too scared to tell anyone I knew, so I made an appointment at a local pregnancy center to find out for sure. They determined that I wasn’t pregnant, and just like that my life was back on track. But looking back, I often wonder what would I have done if I had been pregnant and that emotional relief didn’t dissolve?
1. Help her mourn the story she had written for her future
“This isn’t what I planned.”
“My future is over.”
It can be tempting to jump to problem-solving or finding the right thing to say, but that’s not what she needs right now.
The life she imagined, the timing she expected, the goals she had planned suddenly feel at risk, maybe even erased. One of the most powerful ways to support her during this time is to sit with her in that loss without rushing to offer solutions. Let her mourn the story she had written for her future. And don’t let her grieve alone.
Avoid the instinct to shift the focus immediately to the pregnancy or motherhood. She doesn’t yet see herself as a mother. Start with her. See HER.
Acknowledge her fears and sadness as real and valid. Her desires and dreams are all good things, of course it’s okay to be sad that her timeline and path to achive them might have to shift a little. But gently remind her that what feels like the end might actually be the beginning of a different, yet equally meaningful chapter.
Sometimes we have to mourn the story we have written for our futures to make room for a different story. A new, unknown story, but a story just as beautiful.
2. Encourage her to make room for a revised story
“How do I get my life back on track?”
“What will I lose if I take this path?”
She’s weighing the cost and potential loss of identity and independence.
Things like her education, her job, her relationships and her financial stability. And if she’s already a mother, her fears multiply. How can I possibly provide for another child when I’m already stretched so thin? She’s not just thinking about her own life. She’s thinking about the lives she’s already responsible for. She may think abortion is the only “responsible” option, not because she wants to end a life, but because she wants to protect the children she already has.
We know that her dreams and goals don’t have to be over, but to her it feels like this pregnancy is the end of who she is.
That’s why she might be considering abortion. It might feel like a way to regain control. But we know it won’t erase the struggle and it could leave her with pain and questions that linger far longer than in this moment. She doesn’t have to give up her dreams and goals, she just might have to take a different road to get there.
When talking with her, remind her that life has a way of hiding the most beautiful things at the end of path we never saw ourselves going down. It produces strength, resilience and purpose. She needs to hear that her life isn’t over, even if it feels that way now. You don’t have to convince her of this overnight. Just plant the seed. She’s allowed to rewrite the narrative. It’s her life.
3. Remind her there is no right timing
“But I’m not ready.”
“This isn’t the right time.”
No matter where we are in life, unexpected situations arise…and they always seem to happen at the most inconvenient times. We can try to prepare for the future, but most of the time there is no “right timing.”
Maybe she doesn’t feel ready to handle this pregnancy. Perhaps she feels inadequate, or maybe she just doesn’t want the responsibility. Either way, it’s okay for her to be overwhelmed. Help her see that she doesn’t have to be stuck in that feeling. She can acknowledge it, feel it and then take the next step.
Most of life’s biggest responsibilities, pregnancy included, don’t wait until we feel 100% prepared. Instead, growth happens when we rise to the challenge. Responsibility often isn’t about perfect planning, it’s about choosing to show up, even when things feel hard.
If she’s considering abortion, she’s likely feeling rushed to decide. Help her slow down. Remind her life-altering decisions made in fear rarely bring peace. If she’s overwhelmed by fear or uncertainty, assure her she doesn’t need to have everything figured out right now. She can take it one day at a time, or even hour by hour. Her present fear doesn’t define her future strength.
4. Point her to a trusted support system
“Will I have to do this alone?”
“Do I have the support I need emotionally and practically?”
Even if she has a partner or a supportive family, she might still feel isolated and alone.
Help her think through her support system. Who can she trust? Who can listen without judgment? Who can help practically, maybe with childcare, transportation, or meals? Reassure her you can be that person for her…and follow through.
If she feels completely alone, remind her there are compassionate communities and pregnancy centers who walk with women every day through unexpected pregnancies. Point her to your local pregnancy center and the medical services and resources they can provide to help her make an empowered and confident pregnancy decision.
Show up for her
If you want to support a woman in the middle of an unexpected pregnancy, focus less on what you should say and more on how you show up. You don’t have to fix everything. You don’t have to have the perfect advice. You just have to be there. Listen. Validate her. Sit with her in the silence and the fear. Speak hope gently, without rushing her.
Help her believe what she might not be able to believe just yet:
Her life is not over.
She is not alone.
And this story, her story, is still being written.