“So if we have an abnormal kid you won’t love it?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He puts the box back. “And you’ve said it before: you hope for a healthy baby.”
“Well, duh.”
He playfully nudges me. “You’re moody today.”
He’s right. “Sorry. I’m tired. I shouldn’t have worked last night.” I didn’t end up clocking out until after eight on a Friday night.
“You shouldn’t work so much.”
“If I pick up more shifts now, I can take off more time later.”
“I told you,” he says softly. “Don’t worry about money. I can help you.”
I smile and nod, moving down the aisle and looking at play mats. I had a conversation with my parents about that just this morning. Noah paid for the first ultrasound I had when my insurance denied it and I didn’t have the funds to cover the hefty bill. He gave me the money in cash, actually. It helped immensely and took the anxiety over not being able to afford it. And my parents agreed that letting Noah help cover the costs is more than fair since it’s his kid too, but I shouldn’t rely on it.
We’re not married, after all. He has no obligation to cover my bills.
“I know, and thank you. I’ll stick to my reg—oh my god, this is too cute!” I stop at a turtle-shaped play mat.
Noah stands close next to me, and he’s smiling. “Want to get it?”
I bite my lip. “Yeah, but maybe it’s too early? I don’t want to jinx anything.”
“Buying something isn’t going to jinx anything, Lauren.”
“You’re right. So yeah, let’s get it.”
He takes it off the shelf and tucks it under his arm. He wraps his free arm around me. “I feel like real parents, buying shit we don’t really need.”
I laugh. “Then we need to go get some cute outfits too. And shoes to match.”
“Do I need to turn in my man card by saying this is kind of fun?”
“Not at all. Actually, I think that, uh, increases it. There is something very hot about a man who loves his children.”
“Ah, right. Taking a baby to the park to pick up chicks is better than taking a puppy.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “I’d go to the puppy. I know I’ll love our child, but other people’s children … not so much.”
We go down an aisle of strollers, then look at carseats and highchairs before emerging into the clothing section. I pick out a white and yellow onesie with ducks on it and a matching hat. It will work for a boy or a girl. Noah grabs a tiny pink dress.
“Ella can wear this when she comes home from the hospital,” he teases.
I shake my head. “It’ll be cold then. She’ll need a sweater and pants to go with that.”
“Ah-hah! You agree it’s a girl!”
“Hardly. But if it is, it’ll need to be winterized.”
“Fuck. I forgot about keeping a baby warm as we get her in and out of the car and shit. Do they make winter jackets small enough for babies?”
“Yeah, but you don’t want them to wear it in the carseat. It’s not safe because the material is too bulky and the straps won’t tighten. It makes them at risk for being ejected.”
“And now I feel like I know nothing about being a parent again.”
“Join the club,” I mutter. “It’s a wonder people are able to keep their kids alive, really. There is so much I don’t know.”