Just Like Heaven

I never ever thought about having a child before. Never. I mean, once, when I was with my first boyfriend -back when I was 16. The first time I had sex, and I thought about getting pregnant.

The sex was protected, but still. I thought about having a child, and what I would name them. I thought about the kind of mother I would be, if I would be like my own mother and resent my child. I wondered if I would have a boy or girl first; I wanted a little girl, a mini version of myself to take care of.

I thought about who the father of my children would be, and if we would be married. I thought about baby showers and little clothes I would buy. The baby naming books, the toys and the glow I would possibly radiate. I thought I would be happy, in love and finally doing exactly what I always wanted to do. I looked forward to having a child, and never thought about it again.

In the past few months -with and without Mikey- I really thought about having a baby. When I had watched Mikey sleep, I thought about what it would be like if we had, had babies, who she/he would look like, what we would name them, and if we would be married. Now; we aren't married, not even speaking, he doesn't even want our baby. I was going to do this on my own, and really, I didn't regret making this child, it's just the timing, you know what I mean? I love my baby, no matter what.

So, alone in my bed, I touch my stomach and wondered what gender my baby was. I wondered if they would look like me, or if they looked like him. I cringed at the thought that my baby looked like Mikey; a living, breathing, almost hurtful reminder. I grew worried that once this baby got older, if they would ask about their father. I would have an answer, but I could never tell them, I'd never want to hurt their feelings.

So...I guess I wouldn't tell them the truth. I'd let them know that they're loved more by me and my family than Mikey and his. I'm sure his mother would abort this baby herself if she knew. I don't know how Gerard would feel, I'm sure he'd be okay, but Mikey is his brother.

I rolled over in my bed, holding my pillow, wishing Mikey was still mine. Yes, I still loved him, but I'm sure I'd get over it. My baby would make it hard, but I would get over him eventually.


The next morning, I got up and ready for work. The idea of a baby inside of me was still fresh in my head. Every little move I made, I looked at my stomach, trying to figure how a baby was inside of me. My doctor said my baby was tiny, had little fingers and fingernails and was developing at a normal pace. My stomach stuck out a bit, only a little, but I assumed it was because of the donuts I scoffed down during my work hours.

I went into the kitchen, to grab orange juice, and saw Paula making coffee, "Hey mama." She giggled, "Do you have morning sickness?"

"No," I grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge, "my doctor said it wasn't abnormal. I'm gonna go to physician today at 3, I should be back home by 5."

"Okie dokie," she smiled at me, "I think you're glowing already."

I rolled my eyes, "Oh, shut up."

"What?" She laughed again, "And, be sure that I am throwing you a baby shower when you're like out to here," she stuck her hands out to indicate a pregnant belly, "and we find out the sex of that little sea monkey you're smuggling."

"A sea monkey?"

"I bet that's what it looks like." She jested, "Wicked, I can't wait to see it. What're you gonna name it?"

I shrugged and raised my brow, "I don't know."

"I'm so excited! I'm gonna be a godmother!"

I laughed, "Oh, is that all you're worried about?"

Paula grinned, "Yep."

"Nice." I mumbled, "C'mon, I gotta get to work."


Time went by quickly while I was at work. I got to my appointment on time, and I have to tell you I hate going to the doctor. I really, really hate being in a waiting room, twiddling my thumbs along with sick people.

I hate the stale sick air, the old, torn People magazine and the occasional crying baby. I wish I just didn't have to do this. I hate waiting.

Finally, after sitting there, playing Tetris on my phone, I was called in. I put my phone away, followed the nurse in and had my height and weight checked. I got into the room, and again, I waited.

Waiting makes me think -a lot. I think about obscure things. Things like...Mikey.

I wish I could change the record, but I can't.

I thought about what he was doing. If he missed me. I missed him, and I sorely hated myself for it.

My stupid, idiotic, obscure thinking was interrupted by my doctor coming in. He went over the basic things, that I seemed to look healthy, and about the vitamins I needed to start taking. Then, he had me lie back and he felt my stomach; he asked if I had discomfort or pains, and I answered no.

"This pregnancy came as a surprise." I told him.

"Are you excited?"

"A bit." I answered softly.

He smiled at me; he knew not to ask about the significant other. I caught him looking at my hand, and he's known me for about a year, and a marriage would have been relevant doctor-patient chit chat. Plus, I was still Morgan Haley on paper.

By the time it was all over, I was eager to go; I was starving.

"Take care of yourself, and make sure you take your vitamins." He said to me before I left.

"I will."

My next appointment would be in a couple of weeks. Every month I would see him, that was another reminder I was doing this on my own. I hated that, too; I didn't choose to be a single parent.


"Well, I can't say I didn't see this coming." Brendan commented when I answered the phone.

"Oh, shut up." I grumbled, munching on a donut.

"Hey, I knew it. I just didn't want to say anything to piss you off."

I swallowed the rest of the chocolate donut, "Is that why you called me? To give me shit?"

"Yes and no. I wanted to know what you plan to name this kid."

"The baby isn't even like fully developed, and I don't know what I'm going to name them. Can we wait a few months for it to get cuter?"

He chuckled, "Well, you usually have things like this planned out."

"Well, I'm keeping the baby, how's that for planning ahead?" I told him smartly

"Alright, geez. Max says he wonders who this kid looks like..."

"Don't bring up Mikey, Bren, please." I mumbled.

"Did you tell him?"

"Yeah, he doesn't want the baby. He didn't say that, he just assumed I was gonna abort it; I rather not involve him...his mother and wife do not like me."

"Wife?!" He spat loudly.

I groaned and began to tell him the  story. It took a lot for me not to cry and I was happy when I finished. Brendan had sighed when I finished, "Well...shit. I kind of want to kill him."

I rolled my eyes, wiping away a stray tear, "You and me both."

"Are you gonna tell him when the baby is born?"

"I will," I bit at my lip, "and don't think I want him back, I just want him to know he has a child."

"That's good, I'm glad you aren't bitter about all of this."

"I can't be...I mean, I did love him."

I still love him.

After a few more jabs about me, Brendan and I hung up. I went off into the kitchen to eat some more and to keep my mind busy.

But, before I could even open the fridge, my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket and saw that it was my mom. 

"Hey," I said softly.

"Did you talk to him, Morgan?" My mom's voice was stern and study; note, she wasn't playing around.

"Yes, I did. He doesn't want it, he offered to send me money to have it taken care of, but I told him no and that I would take care of it myself."

"Morgan, you're gonna raise this baby on your own?" My mom sounded quizzical, as of she didn't know of I was being serious or not.

"Of course I am. Just because he doesn't want my baby, doesn't mean I have to give them up." I leaned against the counter and coursed my hair.

"Listen, I'm happy you're keeping this baby, but have you thought about this? Raising a child on your own is hard, my mother did it."

"I know, but I can do it. I have nothing going on, I can give this child love and dedication. I can make this work, trust me."

"Morgan, I trust you, I just don't want you to go through hell trying to make ends meet and raise this baby."

I sighed softly, "I can do this, believe me. If it gets hard, I will deal."

"You have me, too." She said softly, "After the baby is born, do you want to come home? You can rent out the house, and live in Chicago with me. I can help."

That offer made my heart race. I never thought about that option before. I swallowed hard, I was tempted to say yes, but something made me say no, "...Maybe. We'll see." That's the best I could say.

"I will help you, Morgan, always. If you wanna come home, the door is always open."

I signed contently, "Thank you."