Baby Daddy (on hold)

“I’m going to cry.” Harry said.

“Please, don’t.”

I stared intensely at the now sleeping baby in my room. Her soft breaths were a vast contrast to her cries an hour before. Harry sat on the carpet with his legs crossed, hands covering his mouth and nose in shock. We had a baby in my house. The baby’s Mother and Father were still unknown, Harry had called Louis to find out details but he said there was nothing, and “congratulations, you are now the proud parents of a baby girl” and I’m 90% sure I saw a tear fall out of Harry’s eye.

My parents had left early for work, even before Harry had arrived, and they wouldn’t be back until late tonight so I would have to think of something before then, and right now I’m not sure what to do. Harry and I had school tomorrow – how were we going to look after it? I didn’t know how to breastfeed and I’m sure Harry doesn’t. And how would our friends react? They’d think Harry had sex and now he’s a single Father. Or even worse, they’d think I was knocked up and left to look after the baby! This is horrible! My good student reputation would be flushed down the toilet and I’d be the laughing stock of the school! My parents would disown me! Oh heavens! I’m going to be kicked out home to live on the stre-

“Margo,” Harry stressed, he moved over to where I was seated and rubbed the small of my back. “You’re breathing heavily. Calm down.” I nodded feebly and slowed my breathing. I didn’t want to cause more stress.

“What are we going to do?” I sighed and rolled my head on my neck. I wasn’t keeping this baby. No way, we would have to put it up for adoption, or firstly try and find out who the birth parents are.

“No we aren’t!” Harry exclaimed and I swatted him on the arm. I must have thought out loud.

“Shut up! You’re going to wake the baby!” He whined and rubbed his shoulder.

“I’m not giving her back to her real parents, if they were careless enough to leave her with a complete stranger, and never come back, and then I suggest we raise the baby by ourselves.” Harry smiled like it was the best idea in history. “I know, I know, I don’t even know what part of the female a baby comes from! But I’m sure I could learn.”

“Raise it on our own!?” I yelled / whispered before standing up and dragging him into the next room.

“Harry we are eighteen year old high school students who can barely afford McDonalds, how in the bloody hell are we meant to raise a damn baby!?” I rubbed a hand over my face and paced back and forth.

“Hey! I’m in Uni! I was moved forward a year so I do have a job and I do have an apartment, we can always keep her there and you can come over five days a week. You can help me cook and show me how to look after her; we can go to those baby classes once a week and learn how to do other things.”

“Yes,” I said. “but what about the other two days? Harry, you can’t even look after yourself let alone a baby. They need constant attention and love and you’re attention span is the size of a carrot so I’m not too sure about that plan.” He huffed and pouted, but it was true. Even though Harry was eighteen he acted like a three year old, he needed constant attention and whined or pouted when he didn’t get what he wanted. He wore bandanas and weird shirts and listened to bands that I’d never even heard of, he was known as that type of guy that “didn’t really have friends” except for me.

There was a shrill cry coming from my room and we both looked at each other, Harry gestured for me to go first and I proceeded, walking quickly out of the room and into mine, where the small baby was wiggling around on my bed. In need of attention. I picked her up gently and rested her in my arms, rocking back and forth in a slow rhythm. She must be hungry. I held her closely to my chest and rubbed her back, hearing her cries die down a bit. Once she was calm, Harry spoke.

“Do you mind if I hold her?” He asked quietly and I looked at him.

“She isn’t mine, Harry.”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed and I padded over to him, telling him to hold his arm in the cradling position and to always make sure the head was held up.

“She’s warm,” He exclaimed. “Smells like baby oil, too.”

Harry sat on my bed for ten minutes quietly looking. He just stared at her and smiled. She was cute. Her big, baby green eyes looked like Harry’s. I sat there in my desk chair looking at them. Maybe we could really do this. Maybe he could do this. It wasn’t me I was worried about, it was him. He should be going out and getting drunk and having sex (not getting girls pregnant) and being with friends, he was really willing to give up all of that to raise this baby? That wasn’t even his? This was insane, I thought he would be the one to say no.

“Margo,” He called and I hummed in reply. “Do you think we could really do this?”

I paused for a moment. Could we? Could Harry and I look after a child? We were both eighteen, and even though Harry was out of school and lived in his own apartment, how were we going to get our parents to agree? How would we pay for everything we would need? It was all a big mess, and even though I wasn’t sure of what would happen tomorrow, I reassured him.

“We can, Harry.”
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Notes