Page 116 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
I smile at a shot of their profile and the very small nose.
I’m going to be the best dad you could ever ask for, I silently vow.
I’m almost nineteen. I haven’t given much thought to being a dad. Sure, I figured it would happen one day, but I hadn’t thought about the logistics of raising a child. But I find myself excited about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still scared as shit. I’m worried for Harlow—for what her body and mind will have to go through with growing our child and I’m worried for what it’s going to be like when we have a screaming infant. But I look forward to getting to hold our baby, taking them to the beach for the first time, teaching them to ride a bike and surf as they get older.
The exam room door opens, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Hi, Harlow. I’m Dr. Grant. I don’t think we’ve met before.” The kind woman extends her hand and Harlow takes it.
“Thank you for getting her in,” Harlow’s mom says. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course.” Dr. Grant smiles. “And you must be the father to be?” This time she holds her hand out to me.
“Yeah. Spencer. It’s nice to meet you.”
She does a quick examination of Harlow—checking her heart and listening to her lungs before she pulls out a stool and sits.
“Teen pregnancy is a difficult situation,” she begins. “Pregnancy is hard on the body and the mind, so I just want to remind you that you do have options. There’s adoption and?—”
“I’m keeping it,” Harlow blurts out. She reaches out for my hand, and I give it to her, offering her as much silent comfort as I can. “I’ve thought about it a lot and I want to keep it.”
The doctor nods. “All right, then let’s get into the other details.”
She opens the folder she walked in with. “You’re spot on for twelve weeks like you said in your forms. Baby is measuring at the perfect size. I’d say you might have a Thanksgiving baby.” She offers a kind smile. “Your weight and blood pressure is good. I’m not seeing anything we need to worry about currently.” Harlow squeezes my hand at this news. “I just want to remind you that you are young and pregnancy at this age comes with … social complications.” I wince, because she’s not wrong and I’m the one who has put my girl in this position. “We do have a support group for young mothers. It ranges from fifteen at the youngest to our oldest member being twenty, so if you find yourself needing support they would be helpful to reach out to, so I’ll make sure to send you home with their information.”
“Thank you,” Harlow squeaks.
“We’ll schedule you for four weeks from now. That will put you at sixteen weeks.”
I scrub my free hand over my face. I thought this whole thing was going to feel so slow, but instead I feel like I’m going to blink, and our kid is going to be here.
The doctor leaves and the three of us head to the checkout.
Harlow is unusually quiet as we exit the building and head to the car. Her mom speed walks in front of us, headed to her SUV since she brought us.
“I knew I was pregnant before,” Harlow whispers at my side. “I mean I’ve been so sick and bloated, but I … don’t laugh at me, but it didn’t feel real until now.”
“I know what you mean.” I run my fingers through my hair.
She bites her lip as we reach the car. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asks and quickly looks away from me like she fears my reaction.
“What?” I gasp. “Of course I’m okay. This is our baby, Harlow. You don’t think I’m going to break up with you because of this do you?”
She gives a tiny nod. “I mean, it would make sense. You didn’t plan for this.”
I gape at her. “You didn’t plan for this either. We’re in this together, Low. You and me.” I pull her into my arms and hug her. She sniffles into my shirt. “I’m not leaving you,” I state it plainly so she can have no doubts. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We get in the car, and her mom says, “I need to make a return at the mall if you guys are okay with it.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Harlow slides the seatbelt across her body and snaps it into place.
The mall isn’t far, and her mom lets us out at the food court. Once we each have a pretzel in hand, we walk around and find ourselves outside one of those department stores that carries everything you could possibly need. We stroll inside and like we’re guided by an invisible force we end up in the infant section.
“Fuck,” Harlow curses softly. “How does something so tiny need so much?” She looks around at the cribs, car seats, strollers, and more all on display.
I shrug and head over to the strollers. “Beats me.”
