I agree with George about the falling. In the sixties I worked in a Birmingham Family Planning clinic and the word was always used for the unplanned pregnancy which was a disaster, social or financial or both.
One took a chance, one was unlucky, one fell. It's actually a circumstance wholly distinct from the state of grace achieved by a planned, longed-for pregnancy. I will now shut up and put this in a poem, where it belongs.
After all, there are precedents:
You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.
(And her only thirty-one.)
I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face,
It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.
(She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.)
The chemist said it would be alright, but I've never been the same.
You are a proper fool, I said.
Eliot. Wasteland. And if that's not "falling", I don't know what is!
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