Take A Picture (It'll Last Longer)

“Catt? Where are you?” I heard Ben’s voice call out to me.

Instinctively, I wanted to shove all of the pregnancy tests into the trash and the play it cool like I was reapplying my makeup or something. In reality, I was so paralyzed that all I could do was remain standing until Ben happened to wander in to the bathroom and find me standing in front of a counter that was cluttered with eight pregnancy tests. All of them reading positive. It was only then that I managed to regain my ability to speak.

“Hi,” I said with a totally bogus grin. “How was your day?”

“Obviously not as eventful as yours,” Ben said, staring at the little pregnancy tests strewn everywhere. “Are those thermometers?” I would have said yes, but unfortunately, Ben picked one up and then looked at me like he had never seen me before in his entire life.

“I can explain…” I said, wondering why the lamest things in the world were suddenly coming out of my mouth.

“Are you…” Ben said, sounding like he was about to throw up himself.

“Yeah,” I said, not able to look him in the eye.

“How long have you known you were…” Ben began.

“Just a few minutes ago,” I said.

“How did this happen?” Ben asked, looking at the test. “I mean, I can sort of guess how it happened biologically but…”

“It’s all your fault!” I said to him furiously. Now Ben looked afraid of me.

“My fault? How is this my fault?” Ben said, annoyed. “You never once said you didn’t want to…”

“You forgot my pills at your parents house!” I hissed at him. “If you hadn’t done that, none of this would have happened!”

“You said you were going to pick up a new prescription and I guess you never did,” Ben snorted. “If we’re going to make this a blame situation, it’s your fault.”

“Is not!” I said. “I didn’t just get pregnant by myself, you know!”

“I figured that,” Ben rolled his eyes.

“Well, what are we going to do about this?” I frowned.

“We’re going to buy a pram,” Ben said.

Whenever I ask a honest question I can usually count on Ben to give me a stupid answer, intentional or not. I usually chastise him for being a wiseacre and then think up a mature solution by myself, which he goes along with. Of course, this situation was flipped around because I was the one who couldn’t think of anything to do and Ben seemed to be the on in control. I was really surprised when he managed to answer that question like he was, well, an adult.

“A pram?” I said, stunned that he was actually sincere about this.

“A baby carriage. Is that what you yanks call it? And we’re going to get a crib. And maybe another apartment,” Ben said thoughtfully.

“But I love this one…” I frowned.

“We can get a penthouse one. We’ve both got money saved up. And kids need rooms right?” Ben said thoughtfully. “And we’ll need diapers, a changing table… and the kid will probably want a name… how about Ben?”

“You are not so conceited to the point you’re going to name the kid after yourself, are you?” I snorted.

“Well, would you rather we name him Albert Geoffrey Edmund Benjamin Dawes IV? Personally, I don’t think that’s a name that deserves to live on. Besides, if he’s Ben then he can be Little Ben and I can be Big Ben,” Ben shrugged. “It’s cool.”

“And what if it’s a girl? Are we going to name it after me?” I asked.

“We can name is Ben if it’s a girl,” Ben said.

“No you can’t!” I snorted. “Benjamin is a masculine name.”

“Yes, but Benjaminlina is a feminine name, now isn’t it?” Ben smiled.

“We are not naming our kid Benjaminlina!” I snorted.

“What about Benedictia? That’s a female name.” Ben said.

“That name sounds like something you’d name a nun,” I rolled my eyes.

“Fine,” Ben said, “you can think of a girl’s name. But we’re going to name the baby Ben because it’s going to be a boy.”

“And how do you know it’s going to be a boy, Benjaminlina?” I snorted. “You didn’t know I was pregnant until five minutes ago!”

“Neither did you, I gather,” Ben replied. He had me there.

“Ben,” I said, suddenly feeling the whole emotional thing creep up on me like Jason at Camp Crystal Lake, “I can’t be a mother. I don’t even like kids! They’re snotty and bratty and they mess everything up and I don’t know how to change a diaper and I never was that good at babysitting and I don’t want to quit my job and stay home and make jam…” And then I started crying and Ben put his arms around me, stroking my hair.

“It’s going to be okay, Catt,” Ben said. “Look, you don’t have to quit your job or anything. I mean, my schedule is pretty much flexible. I can be a stay at home dad and when I need to work, I’m sure your mum wouldn’t mind coming up here. It’ll all work out, okay…Alright, Catt?”

“I don’t want kids,” I said suddenly. “I really don’t want kids…”

“Come on, Catt, you’re just nervous,” Ben smiled. “You’ll feel better about all this tomorrow.”

“No I won’t,” I shook my head, pulling away from him. “I don’t want kids. I don’t want a baby. I don’t want to have children.”

“Is it me?” Ben asked worriedly.

“No,” I said, wiping my nose with my sleeve like I was seven and on the playground. “I just can’t do this. I’m not supposed to be a mother.”

“Catt, my mum wasn’t supposed to be a mum. You, on the other hand,” Ben said, “you’ll be a great mum. You’ll be the best mum there’s ever been. You already take care of me and Elle and you basically spoon fed Holly straight into her first job. Not to mention that you actually know who the father is. I’m sure that when my sister has her first kid she won’t know who the father is. Am I helping the situation at all?”

“A little,” I smiled faintly.

“What you need is to go get into your pajamas and get into bed and I’ll bring you some warm tea and crackers, okay?” Ben said.

“Okay,” I nodded, “but first I need to clean up all of these…” Ben looked at all of the pregnancy tests.

“Leave that to me,” Ben said. “Now, go get in bed.”

“Ben,” I said, “when did you get so good at this whole taking care of me stuff?”

“You need me to take care of you right now and that’s what I’m going to do,” Ben shrugged. “Now get in bed before I put you there.” I nodded and did exactly as Ben had said.

While I dressed in my pajamas, I heard Ben clattering around in the bathroom. I slipped into the cool comfort of the bed sheets and turned on the TV. Ben finished up in the bathroom and quickly made me some tea and crackers. He brought them to me and bed and then curled up next to me in bed while I ate. When I was done, I put the plate and cup on the bedside table and curled up into Ben’s arms.

“So,” Ben said after a long period of silence, “have you calmed down enough I can start referring to you as Mum?”

“No,” I grimaced. Ben frowned a little too but didn’t loosen his grip around me.

“Well, look on the bright side,” Ben shrugged. “You get maternity leave off of work. And you get to go buy a whole slew of new clothes and furniture and things like that. And if Elle picks a hideous bridesmaids dress when she gets married in sixth months, you can just pretend to be too pregnant to wear it.”

I had totally forgotten about being Elle’s maid of honor until that moment and suddenly, a new sense of horror and dread crept up over me. I was going to be fat as a cow with this huge belly and still would have to fit it into some frilly little bridesmaids dress. I was going to be a pregnant maid of honor. As if I didn’t need another thing to worry about.

“I can’t do this,” I shook my head. “It’s impossible.”

“Hey, my mum said she couldn’t deal with having me but here I am and look how wonderful I turned out,” Ben grinned at me.

Then I leaned over and vomited into the trash can beside the bed.