The Apocalypse Blog
by Melanie Edmonds

I’m gonna be a dad. Holy shit.

I’m going to be someone’s father. Responsible for a little tiny thing, like Sally’s son. I can’t wait! I know I’ll have to wait about nine months – or rather, seven, according to our calculations – but even that seems too long.

Oh yeah – this is Matt. Should’ve said that earlier. I guess it’s pretty obvious by now. I’m all – what’s the word? – discombobulated. I love that word. Also, I can’t stop grinning. She told me last night, and I still can’t stop grinning.

 

Faith’s terrified. She works so hard to hold everything else together, but she doesn’t do half as well when it comes to herself. Of all the things that have come up in the After, it’s the simplest, most basic human function that has knocked her sideways. I guess it’s always the thing you least expect, huh?

When she told me, my first instinct was to be angry with her. Not for being pregnant, or getting pregnant, or any of that. She thought I might be angry with her over those things, though really, she should know me better. She didn’t do it on purpose – she’s not that kind of girl, to use something like her own fertility against a guy. It was an accident – I believe her and the stricken look on her face when she talks about it.

It’s like they say – it takes two, and we both did it. The two of us, together, we made this tiny little thing that’s just starting to come to life inside of her. If I think about it too much, my head starts reeling, like it’s all too big for me. It’s the most wonderful thing in the whole world.

My impulse towards anger was because she waited so long to tell me. We’re in this together, I told her. She doesn’t have to do it all on her own. Isn’t that what she’s always telling everyone else? It’s especially true with this. She can tell me anything. Anything at all. We always have, our whole lives, and now we have even more reason to. She and me – we’re a pair, a couple, and we’re in all of this together.

Now we both know and we can work together on this. Start thinking about what we need to do next. I don’t know where to start! Gather up more baby supplies, I guess, to make sure we have enough? We’re both as clueless as each other.

I had to stop myself from following her around today and making sure she was all right. She thought that a baby might cause problems between us, that it would change things for the worse. Of course it won’t. She doesn’t understand that she was the best thing in my life yesterday, and today she’s more precious than ever. I’d tell her, but I don’t think she’d believe me.

She doesn’t want to tell the group yet. A lot can happen in seven months, she said. Give it another month, until she’s starting to show. Then we can tell them.

I don’t think she’s afraid of losing the baby, though that’s a worry too (like I said, I keep getting this urge to wrap her up and make sure she’s okay). She needs a chance to get used to the whole idea. There’s no reason for us to tell the others right away, so there’s no problem with keeping it to ourselves for now.

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t want to announce it to everyone. I’d write it on the broken sky if I could. Me, a dad! And maybe I will, but not yet. When we’re both ready.

If she’s not careful, Jersey’s going to beat her to it. Unless I miss my guess.

 

I think this is the best feeling, after the time when she told me she loved me. How sappy does that sound? I never thought I’d be a lovestruck puppy. I promised myself a long time ago I’d never get here, to this place when another person meant so much to me. I’ve seen Faith get wound up in other people and what it does to her when she loses them. I’ve got close to people and lost them too, but it wasn’t like this. Nothing like this. I think about losing her and it’s suffocating, like all the light and air has been sucked out of the room.

If I didn’t love her so much, I’d hate her for making me love her so much. But I can’t hate this.

I’m gonna be a dad. I wonder if it’s got toes yet. Or ears. When do they get ears?

I want to go and hug Faith and our little tiny proto-baby. In fact, that’s what I’m going to do.

Tags: Matt