Take A Picture (It'll Last Longer)

Elle’s wedding came and past. I was surprised that she actually went through it, considering that Dirk, and apparently all of his brothers, are still stuck in that whole frat boy stage of life. Still, Elle went threw with it and went off to three beautiful weeks in the Mediterranean all on Dirk’s dime. Me? I got to wear a hideous green dress, which Ben took tons of pictures of, and had at least three quarters of the crowd of five hundred present at Elle’s wedding comment about how you could barely tell I was pregnant. Not to mention that my birthday was in two weeks and I was not looking forward to being a quarter of a century old.

Twenty-five turned out to be the worst birthday I had in a long while. Jon and I had broken up around my birthday and since then, most of my birthdays had been pretty good. Except for this one. Normally, when someone is celebrating a birthday you give them something they would like. For my birthday, my mother gave me a pack of baby toy key rings and pacifiers, Cordelia gave me green and orange onesies that could be worn by either a boy or girl, Elle sent me an early birthday present of a couture diaper bag, Starla gave me a set of Little Einstein DVDs and of all people, Holly gave me a hand knitted baby blanket she bought in Amish Country. The only person who actually gave me something for my birthday was Ben who bought me a couple of new CDs and a shirt.

When everyone had left the small birthday party they had thrown at my house, I was left with a pile of gifts that weren’t even for me. I know pregnancy makes you hormonal and all but that wasn’t why I felt liked crying. It was because I was a very selfish person and I wasn’t ready to start being selfless for this kid I hadn’t even planned on having, even though the idea of having a baby was growing on me. Ben finished up cleaning the mess that everyone had left because I complained about how I was pregnant and uncomfortable. It was actually a little fun sitting on the couch and ordering him around, despite the fact that all of these baby items were practically staring me in the face. When he finished, Ben plopped down on the couch beside me and let out a tired sigh.

“Did you have a happy birthday?” Ben asked me, snaking his arm around my shoulders.

“No,” I frowned.

“No?” Ben said alarmed.

“Apparently, today isn’t my birthday. It was a mini-baby shower,” I grimaced. Ben looked at the presents on the coffee table.

“People just get excited, Catt,” Ben shrugged. “It’s nothing against you.”

“Apparently, it’s nothing for me either,” I grumbled. “It’s my birthday isn’t it? I think I’m entitled to people actually paying me attention.”

“Babies make people crazy, Catt,” Ben shrugged. “Sort of like weddings and graduations. People just get all emotional and weird.”

“By people, don’t you mean ‘women’?” I snorted.

“Why would you assume that,” Ben asked me.

“Because you and my father didn’t go all crazy on me,” I said.

“Catt, quit accusing me of being a chauvinist pig,” Ben sighed.

“Sorry,” I said with a frown, “but sometimes when I think about the fact that I’m going to be lugging around sixty extra pounds of weight, watch what I eat and drink, and avoid doing all sorts of exciting things while you’re still scrawny, can still eat raw foods and drink beer, and could go on every rollercoaster in the world tomorrow if you wanted, I get a little pissy.”

“You’ll be scrawny, eating raw foods and drinking beer, and riding rollercoasters before you know it.” Ben pointed out.

“But it’s still my birthday,” I frowned. “I wished someone cared about me.”

“Now wait a minute, who bought you new CDs and clothes?” Ben asked, very offended.

“You don’t count,” I said tiredly.

“And why not?” Ben demanded to know.

“Because you asked me what I wanted for my birthday and then went out and got it,” I replied. “It wasn’t exactly a surprise since I knew what I was getting.”

“Then maybe I should have surprised you with a slew of baby bibs,” Ben shrugged.

“That isn’t funny,” I said annoyed. “How would you feel if all of the presents I got you for your birthday were things that Amy wanted?”

“Catt, there is a big difference in people getting you things for the baby and people getting me things for Amy,” Ben snorted. “For one, our baby isn’t a no account tramp, cheat, and liar. Secondly, my sister is ugly and doesn’t clip her toenails.”

“What does that have do with anything?” I asked him with a slight laugh.

“Nothing, I just wanted to say it.” Ben shrugged.

“I’m going to be the worst mother ever and have the most screwed up kid that ever lived,” I sighed, depressed.

“I honestly think that award goes to Hilter’s mother. Maybe Geoffery Dahmer’s,” Ben replied.

“I’m still going to be a sucky mom,” I frowned.

“No, you won’t. You’ll be a great mum.” Ben told me. He placed a kiss on my forehead and then rubbed my belly. “Little Ben thinks so too.”

“You’re going to confuse it,” I warned him.

“Am not,” Ben snorted. “And ‘it’ is a he.”

“How can you tell?” I asked him.

“I just know,” Ben said defiantly, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t that right, Little Ben?”

“You’re doing it again!” I said, exasperated.

“I am not going to confuse the baby!” Ben insisted.

“Alright, but when it’s a girl…” I said, irritated.

“It’s going to be a boy!” Ben insisted.

“Well, when it’s a girl we aren’t naming it Benjaminlina so you can say that there was nothing wrong with you calling it ‘Little Ben’ all months,” I snorted.

“And then what exactly do you propose we name it if it isn’t Little Ben, which it is,” Ben asked, annoyed.

“I was thinking Mila,” I said.

“Mila?” Ben asked me skeptically.

“It’s Czech for dear,” I said. “I thought it was more updated than Millicent. And we can still call her Milly. Like your mother wanted to call you.”

“You actually want to do something that my mum wanted to do?” Ben said with an arched eyebrow.

“I thought you would be happy,” I frowned. “I think Milly is a pretty name. And besides, it’ll still be named after you in a way.”

“Alright,” Ben said with a smile, “and either way we can give it the middle name Oscar after you.”

“Now you’re really starting to creep me out,” I frowned. Ben just gave me a kiss and then went to go make dinner.

Two weeks later we went in for the first sonogram. I was probably more nervous than Ben and the fact that Dr. Paulsen was dressed up in his Grinch Tie and wearing a red and white Christmas pin stripe suite didn’t do much to put me at ease. Ben thought it was hilarious, which I should have guessed because Ben would want to go to the craziest doctor in town. Of course, once the sonogram started up, I was completely awed by what I saw on the fuzzy screen just above my head and I took Ben’s hand.

There was something about watching as Dr. Paulsen scanned over each one of the fingers and toes and said everything seemed okay that made me stop feeling so selfish. I had bigger fish to fry than what I wanted now. I had this baby to take care of and I was going to have to raise it, not to mention try to stomp out any negative influence Ben might have over it. Ben seemed twice as excited about the entire thing, holding my hand and pointing out all of the little fingers and toes on the screen. He even waved at the screen and said hello to the baby, causing Dr. Paulsen and I to roll our eyes at each other.

“Would you like to know the sex of the baby?” Dr. Paulsen asked us.

“What?” Ben said, confused. He had been too busy looking at the baby’s heartbeat.

“Do you want to know if the baby is a boy or girl,” Dr. Paulsen repeated patiently.

“Yes,” I said at the same time Ben said “No.”

“Which is it?” Dr. Paulsen chuckled.

“Come on, Catt. Why ruin the surprise?” Ben asked me.

“Because everyone I know is expecting me to come back and tell them if it’s a boy or girl so they can go out and buy things. Not to mention what color we’re going to do the nursery…” I said, ticking off reasons on my fingers.

“I think we should wait,” Ben frowned.

“You can wait all you want,” I said. “Just step outside and Dr. Paulsen can tell me.”

“That’s not fair!” Ben said. “Then you’d know I wouldn’t!”

“Then stay in here and hear it with me,” I rolled my eyes. Ben still didn’t seem sure. “Are you afraid it’s a girl and you’ve spent the past four months confusing it?”

“I doubt the baby is gender confused at this point,” Dr. Paulsen mentioned slightly.

“No,” Ben said like a child.

“Then what’s wrong with finding out now?” I asked him.

“Alright. You win,” Ben said, “but I’m counting this as an early Christmas present.”

Dr. Paulsen looked around for a moment. For a second or so I was concerned that the baby didn’t have a gender at all or was a hermaphrodite and Ben and I would have to “make a choice”. Then our kid would end up on some reality show on the Logo network talking about how it spent forty years feeling as though it was trapped in the wrong body. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I don’t feel like explaining to the other parents why my son runs around wearing a dress and high heels or why my daughter has more muscles than your average biker. Then Dr. Paulsen breathed in heavily and turned to us with a smile.

“Well, it looks like the baby is a…”