(no subject)
Seven months, two weeks and six days ago Cordelia and I heard we were going to be parents. It has been a very trying time, that much was certain. There had been bouts of emotional turmoil, for both of us. One moment she’d be very angry due to something silly I’d done. Or she would just burst into tears for no reason what so ever. There had been the question of sex, which I hadn’t at all been sure was a good thing to do while she was pregnant.
Cordelia was of course of a very different opinion. It wasn’t until she put on some very sexy lingerie, sat me down on the bed (even threatening to tie me down, wicked woman) and then proceeded to read the pamphlets to me, as well as the opinion of the good doctor who kept an eye on her progress that I agreed with her. Carefully. Cautiously. I still didn’t think it was a good idea, after all, it could damage our child!
Luckily she’s only been sick for the first few month of the pregnancy. I cannot begin to count how many times I’d been with her in the bathroom, holding her hair up, wiping her face while she called me just about every name in the book. And then some. Let’s not even start about the very strange cravings she would have, which had me darting around town at odd hours just to get her what she wanted.
Either that or she’d cry again, or yell at me. I think several plates, cups, glass and the likes have been thrown to my head at various occasion. So I’ll admit, there were times I was ready to jump when she even showed so much as an inkling of wanting something to eat. It was good to be out of the house and on my own.
Beneath that all had been the fear, and the euphoria of becoming a parent. I’d bought just about every book there was on the subject. Pregnancy, child rearing, child diseased, schooling system, how to… Cordelia had watched this all with a stride, and indulgent look on her face and called me a dork.
To which I declared to be a nerd and we’d both grin at each other.
We’d found a house in the small town we’d stranded when we found out we were going to be parents. It was far away from Los Angeles, a small obscure town of no importance. We weren’t really running from the Senior Partners, they had no interest in us at all. Not since Angel had cut us free. There had been rumors of a fight in Los Angeles, several in fact. We tried not to notice this, or pay attention to those to much.
For all we knew our friends could be dead. It nagged at us, of course, the not knowing. The uncertainty. We had made our choice though, and so had they. Blood will crawl where it can’t go though, and we did end up in connection with the demonic world. Despite my job at the a small hospital as administrator, I still ended up fighting the dark side of this world.
And dear lord let’s not even start about the fights I’ve had with Cordelia about her amend wish to join me. I spend many a nights on the sofa before she agreed with me.
We found a demon doctor as well who was willing to help us with the baby and Cordelia demonic side. Thus far there hadn’t been any indications that our child would be outwardly demonic. The echo’s and sonograms or whatever they had done all showed a normal, human baby. We didn’t want to know yet if it was a boy or a girl. It didn’t really matter.
Names however were another matter. We were still arguing about that one. Those. Thank god she didn’t know I was still gathering the nerves to ask her to marry me. It seemed the right thing to do to me, but somehow I think I would find the imprint of a very expensive prada in my forehead if I would bring it that way. I had yet to find the opportune moment to do so, it just never happened. Either I lost my nerve, or she suddenly had one of her mood, or there was a demonic occurrence.
The occurrence we were having trouble with now though? Her wardrobe. Again. Each month it was the same. By now she was, and I’m sorry to put it that way, as big as a house. I cannot begin to count how many times per day I’d had to tell her she was still beautiful, I still loved her and I would never leave her for some skinny model with an anorexia complex. Heavens, why would she think that? Of course these were followed with the by now familiar ‘This is all your fault!’ fits. I could really do without those in at some store she had dragged me to.
The fear was still there, usually at nights when we were supposed to be sleeping. This was one of those occasions. I’d given Cordelia a back- and feetrub after convincing her to take a bath. Her feet and back were troubling her, and considering the weight she had to carry around that didn’t surprise me. She was asleep next to me in our new bed while I stared up at the ceiling.
Thinking. Just thinking.
About me as a father. About the many, many mistakes I could made as a father. As a man. As a person. The many mistakes I had made as a man and human being. Even though I was happy with the prospect of becoming a father, of holding such a tiny life in my arms and look at it in awe… its scared me to death at the same time.
The what if’s were endless.
Sighing, I glance over at Cordelia, still fast asleep. I sat up and tucked the covers around her before slipping out of bed. Grabbing my robe, I padded quietly out of the bedroom and down the stairs into the living room. Reading usually helped to stop me thinking for a while. Sometimes it only made it worse.
It was worth a try.