It's Your Baby, Belén Domínguez [books for 10th graders txt] 📗

song from Selena Gomez was the background.

 

“So, how was your day?” she asked, in an attempt of starting s conversation. I smiled and tilted my head sideways to have a better look of her. Her gaze was focused on the road.

 

I shrugged it off, “Fine, I guess” I said, though it was sort of a lie, if you know what I mean. I don't think is a good idea for her to know about Nash and I now that she's driving. Like, I bet she will be so shocked she will crash directly to a tree; a scene I would like to avoid. I crossed my arms across my chest and stared out the window.

 

“Come on, honey. . .You're a teenager, nothing exciting happened?”

 

“Well, I woke up today, and realize I'm still pregnant, I think that qualifies as something interesting, am I right?” I didn't want to sound like that, I might be a little too sensitive. But lately, I've been that way, and I hate it so freaking much.

 

She chuckled. “I was this exact way when I was pregnant with you and your brother. Moody all the time”

 

“I'm sorry, mom, I didn't mean—”

 

“No, baby, I get it. . .Really. I understand that being pregnant is such a challenge, that's why, we need to talk about what happens after”

 

“After what?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

 

“When you give birth, Gwen. . .” she let go a heavy sigh.

 

“Do we have to talk about it now?”

 

“And when do you plan to talk about it Gwen, when you are in the hospital bed, holding your child?”

 

I cringed at that word. Child. God, every time I hear that it makes me more nervous than usual. With just the plain thought that soon I’ll be carrying in my bare hands a person that came out of me. Oh, my God. Someone I made, inside of me. A real little person; with a delicate face, with fingers, with feet, with a mouth, with a nose. When I think of it, my stomach does a major backflip.

 

“I know it's hard, but that day will come pretty soon actually, and you need to have a plan”

 

“We need to talk with Finn too and—”

 

“You mean that hobo that started this in the first place? Don't even think about it, Gwen. I told you not to talk to him ever again and I hope you're keeping your promise” she said, her tone cold.

 

If only she knew.

 

So telling her that I practically see him and talk to him every day is off the table, right?

 

“What are you suggesting?” I asked, trying to change the subject as quick as possible. She composed herself, and glanced at me briefly.

 

“Adoption” she said finally after several minutes of pure silence. "Someone that can take care of this child with love and responsibility"

“I've been thinking the same thing, but who would want a baby made by an irresponsible teenager?” I asked.

 

“A lot of people, sweetie. People that unfortunately can't have a baby. . .People that will be more than grateful if you picked them to have your baby” she parked the car outside this huge building with a lot of glass windows. “Leave it all to me, I'll take care of everything” she said and got out of the car, I did too and followed her inside, letting her work her magic.

 

Soon, a nurse came towards us and told us to wait outside in the waiting room, since our doctor was finishing with a patient. I fidgeted with my fingers, occasionally glancing at some women sitting next to me, staring at me with sympathy, which made me get annoyed, of course. I hate that kind of look—which by the way, I've been getting a lot lately—sympathy, sorry, pity, disappointment. I hate the fact that I slept with someone, lost my virginity with one guy, and I have to carry my mistake with me, I have to carry the evidence everywhere I go.

 

My mom sensed my uneasiness, and gently placed her delicate hand on my knee, giving it a little squeeze.

 

Suddenly, a wooden door opened, two women coming out, saying goodbye with a hug. This middle aged woman with blonde hair, messy bun, and bright red nails, was holding a notepad with her, checking something.

 

“Gwen Davery? Do we have a Gwen Davery?” she called out. Mom and I soon stood up and walked towards her.

“Doctor McNamara?” my mom said, greeting her with a handshake. She smiled politely, her gaze fell in me, then to my stomach, of course. . .Lately, everyone I meet had greeted me with that way actually. First face then straight to my stomach. I got so used to it, I don't even know if I should just get mad or let it go, either way, I am still the same way. Either way, they will still see this huge stomach, so why bother, right?

 

We walked inside her office, the smell of mint and cinnamon soon hit my nostrils. I sat at one of the black chairs in front of her desk, my mom sat in the other next to mine. Dr. McNamara sat in her chair and checked something in her computer before turning back to us. I stared at all the diplomas hanging on the wall, the scented candles in one corner, and the decorative plants in another. Then my view dropped to the picture in her desk. Dr. McNamara was there, with her husband and two kids. I couldn't help but smiling slightly.

 

“So” she started, which made me bring my attention back to her. “We're just going to do some tests to see if your baby is in good conditions—”

 

“And what if it's not?” the words stumbled out of my mouth without me wanting to. She shifted in her chair, looking nothing but clamed and peaceful. It made my nervousness go away just one bit.

 

“What if it's not what?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

 

“What if my baby is not fine” I asked, scared all of a sudden. A lot of thoughts were running through my head that precise moment. What if he/she is not fine at all? What if something went wrong? What if he/she got hurt or something? Are these all the concerned thoughts moms go through when giving birth? It's awful. . .

 

“We hope for the best, darling. We will just run some tests in you, and that will determine if your baby is doing a great job” her voice was nothing but calmed, so soft and sweet. Thinking back in the picture I just saw, she does have the face of a mother, it does look like she knows what she's doing.

 

I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. My mother, beside me send me a sympathetic look, and smiled sweetly at me; that sort of put me at ease, but just slightly. There was still this feeling in the pit of my stomach: Fear and anxiousness.

 

Everything will be alright. . .I believe that. I know things will be okay. I slowly followed the doctor to a dark room, my mom close behind me. Thank God, she's here, I know I wouldn't be able to do this on my own.

 

I lied in the bed of that small room. There were a lot of machines, and it was too dark. I raised my shirt, revealing my stomach. Doctor McNamara stared at for a bit, smiling. I felt sort of uncomfortable to expose myself that way, but then again, she's a Doctor and knows what she's doing.

 

She started putting some sort of Vaseline in my stomach, while analyzing something in her computer, glancing back at me from time to time. Suddenly, an image popped up, which made my mom gasp, a smile plastered across her face.

 

“What!? Why are you shocked!? Is something wrong?” I asked exasperated. They both stared at me, they looked nothing but unconcerned.

 

“Gwen, that's your baby” Dr. McNamara pointed at the big screen. I stared at it, still not believing my eyes. It looked beautiful.

 

After half an hour of tests after tests, I was free to go, though I still had another appointment next week. When we got to the car, I buckled in and stared at my mom, who was turning pn the engine. I stared at the photo they took of my baby, the little person inside of me. I'm sure Nash will love to see this picture.

 

“Now, we have to do something else. . .” she said.

 

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. “Where?”

 

“I did some calls. . .”

 

“And? Where are you going with this, mom?”

 

“I found this cute couple that is willing to adopt” she said, a smile on her face. I was taken aback for a second. I mean, without consulting me? Yeah, I was indeed planning to put my baby in adoption, but I also said that it's best if Finn gets involved. I mean, it's his baby too.

 

“Mom, you should've asked me about it first before contacting them” I said, raising my voice a little. "I know you're trying to help, but don't you think that you should've warned me the plans you had for my baby before just going behind my back contacting strangers that may or may not be good for this baby” I said, caressing my growing stomach. “A heads up, a warning, time, something, you know?”

 

She sighed, glancing at me for a second before focusing on the road again, “I know, sweetie, and I'm sorry. . .But, I thought you made up your mind about the adopting thing, that you decided that you were going to go on with this. You are 17, and that stomach is just getting bigger. In not so much, a new born baby is going to open her or his eyes. That baby needs parents, adult parents that can take care of her or him, I thought you understood that”

 

“Mom, of course I understand that. But, I also told you that I wanted to tell Finn about it. He has a say on it”

 

She stopped the car abruptly, making me jump in fear. "Are you out of your mind!? Why did you stopped like that" I asked exasperated. She stared at me for a moment before shaking her head.

 

“What did I tell you about having that-that punk knowing about this? I told you not to hang out with him, he has no right to have an opinion in this baby thing. We are going through the adoption procedure, and I don't care if he actually has anything to say about this. It is your baby—”

 

“But is his baby too” I cut her off.

 

“Gwen, it doesn't matter!” she said, raising her voice. "Is he here? I don't think so. So why don't you just—”

 

“He's not here, because you don't want him to be. Don't you think he actually cares for this? Do you think he ran away like you predicted? He didn't mother! He stayed. . .For me”

 

“You've been hanging out with him" she said, more to herself. “Gwen, I specifically told you—”

 

“I know what you said, and I'm sorry I disobeyed you, but I had to”

 

“Why? What can he do to erase what he had already done?” she asked.

 

“Nothing, that's the thing mother, what's done is done. And you can either hang on to that hatred or let it go, and I don't want to live with that kind of emotion towards one person”

 

“Look what he did to you” she said, her voice cracking, she was fighting not to cry, but was failing miserably.

 

“I know, I am pretty aware of what he did, but mom. . .I said, grabbing her hands. "He is different from the rest, he truly is. He didn't leave like you said. . .Doesn't that tells you something about how he is. He offered to help me multiple times, he supports me and-and proves to me that he cares”

 

“Do you. . .Do you actually feel something for him?” she asked. I took a moment to think about it, I stared at my mother for a few minutes, before smiling.

 

“I do, mom, I really do”

 

She let