Less Children

It wasn’t the best day day for Sophia to want to get out of bed. Turning sixteen at the same time your pregnancy gets into its 32nd week doesn’t seem to be exactly what life was cracked up to be like. No matter how hard Sophia tried to be optimistic, it wasn’t that easy. She had entered her seventh month of being pregnant and the menacing moment of actually giving birth was well approaching. This was a time full of worries for any woman – but when the woman could count her years on her fingers and toes, it was most definitely worse.

Feeling that thoughts would eventually give her a headache she wasn’t keen on receiving as a birthday gift, Sophia finally got up, it being a real effort for her, as the baby weighed hard upon her teenaged, frail body.

The day, independently from Sophia, was a beautiful, windy Sunday. It was the kind of wind, which combined with a certain amount of sunshine, made it especially nice to be out, feeling the chilly, November air, and even prettier to return home to a steamy cup of whatever hot beverage it was that enchanted one’s heart.

The girl made her way to the large window that separated her bedroom from the world and sat on the little built-in bench in front of the window, having a rather hard time sitting down and using several pillows to support her back. A few minutes later, during which she had thoughtlessly admired the sky, someone knocked on her door. As she asked whoever it was in, she saw her father’s genuinely loving expression, clear eyes and fair skin. He was a fairly strong man, with large, strong arms and a lean body. Jack Leigh was, beside all that, a good man. When the dreadful sorrow came upon his daughter he did nothing but be strong, and supportive, leaving his own pain inside, not showing it to his darling child. His wife, Monica, was proud to see the same kind of noble acts in her daughter, Sophia, too.

Jack went to his daughter and adoringly kissed her temple, caressing her blonde-streaked hair. He took her face into his large, manly hand, and looked inside those deep black eyes of her. He saw and felt the trembling inside, the tears welling up on “his little butterfly” and felt a sudden need of cradling her into his arms and keeping her there forever, away from all the evil in the world. He felt frustration peak on him. The evil of the world had already touched his darling daughter in a way so dark and frightening, making him feel awfully guilty and useless as a man and as a father.
“A Happy Birthday is in order, though I know it may not be that happy. Happy birthday, darling. I love you; you know that, don’t you?”
“Thanks dad. I do. I know you love me. And thank you for that too…”
“Come on. We have to celebrate, your mother’s waiting. We’re going to eat out and go baby-shopping for your birthday. All you want for your kid. It will be another sacrifice from your part, getting everything for him or her with the money for your birthday. Come on, darling,” he said, taking her hand, helping her stand up and walking her carefully all the way downstairs.

It was the first time Sophia had ever gone shopping for a baby. Reality struck her more with every little adorable piece of clothing or toy, the beautifully scary reality of a baby that was going to be her child. Her own kid!

The most beautiful cradle she could ever imagine was bought. The future sleep-place of her child was made of hard-wood, and stained dark brown. It had white silken lining and a gorgeous see-through fabric that would be hanging from the ceiling and protecting the little bundle. Sophia tried to imagine the cutest little baby, with its baby sounds, its little baby fingers, chubby cheeks and baby smell. The thought made her squeal with emotion. How nice it felt to be that happy!
The teenager picked little white overalls with adorable little drawings of baby animals with matching bonnets and baby socks. Two or three of the sweetest of blankets and the nicest comforters were also on the list.