I drove as slowly as I could from Ally's house to mine. Even though I'd had a lot of time to think about things over the past couple of days, I still hadn't come up with how best to tell my parents the news. I came to the conclusion there was no easy way to break it to them- any way would come as a total shock. I pulled into the driveway, turned off the ignition, and then Ally and I sat there for ten minutes in silence. I guess I was hoping for divine intervention or something. It didn't come.

"Fuck. Let's get this over with." I mumbled as I got out of the car.

My parents were in the living room when we came in. They were cuddled up together on the loveseat; Mom's back resting against Dad's chest, his arm draped around her shoulder. He was watching TV and she was reading a book. After two decades of marriage they were still so in love with each other. I wondered if Ally and I would ever be like them. Would a baby bring us together or tear us apart?

Dad raised his eyebrows when he saw me standing in the foyer, a strange girl at my side.

"Edward?" Mom nervously glanced at my father and then me. I took a big breath.

"Dad, Mom. This is Ally." I paused, scrubbing my hand over my face as they awkwardly exchanged hellos. "Ally is...um….shit. There's no easy way to say this." I understood Ally's blunt approach with her parents. "She's pregnant….it's mine." I couldn't look at them because I knew, I knew, I'd completely blindsided them.

As the words fell out of my mouth I waited for their reaction. At first there was nothing from either one. Their faces were blank canvases, but as my words sunk in they painted a bleak picture.

Then the tears welled in my mother's eyes. Her head dropped down, shoulders slumped forward as she began to cry. Knowing I was the reason behind those tears? Fuck. It sucked. Mom could barely look at me and when she finally did it was worse than I imagined. With a hand partially covering her mouth, all she managed to whisper was "Oh, Edward" before the sobs continued.

My father put his arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. Far worse than the tears that left black streaks down my mom's cheeks was the look of sheer disappointment on my dad's face. It just...gutted me. I knew what he expected of me; hell- I expected it of myself: get good grades, go to college, make my parents proud, do something positive with my life. Instead, I'd knocked up some random girl...at the very least I'd have to scratch 'make my parents proud' off that list.

For a long while the only sound in the room was Mom sobbing. I wanted her to stop. For her- for both of them -to know I was going to make things right. I reached for Ally's hand, threading my fingers with hers to show my parents we were a united front. It didn't feel natural but I was trying my best.

"Look, I know we screwed up. But Ally and I want to keep this baby. We're going to raise it - together."

"Where will you live?" Dad asked. Though his voice was calm, his furrowed brow and clenched jaw told a different story.

"Well, Ally's parents kicked her out. I was thinking we could clean up the basement and she, well we, I guess, could stay there." Used mostly for storage, it did have its own entrance, a small bathroom, sitting room, and a bedroom. "It'd be cramped but when I go to school it'll be more than enough for Ally and the baby."

"Babies are expensive. How will you provide for it?"

"I'll get a part time job and I figured you guys would help us out." My father was a surgeon, we had lots of money. "And Mom can babysit when I'm away at school." Again, I didn't see it being an issue because other than her charity and volunteer stuff, Mom didn't work. She could easily look after the kid.

"Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this."

"Thank you, I have." I leaned back, grinning to myself. See, this wasn't so bad. My parents were totally cool—

"Except that's not how things are going to happen."

"Huh?"

"I take it you didn't use protection?" Dad narrowed his eyes.

"We, uh…." Dad's arms folded across his chest, daring me to lie to him but I knew better. I shook my head.

"An adult action, like having unprotected sex, requires an equally adult reaction to the consequences, such as pregnancy."

I scratched my head. Didn't he hear my solutions to such a consequence? I was annoyed he didn't recognize that.

"I think I've reacted very much like an adult. I'm making sure this kid's provided for while I'm away at school." One of Dad's eyebrows raised.

"Wait a second..." I paused and gaped at him. "You're not saying I can't go away to school, are you? You think I'm going to put my dream of college, of playing football, on hold... to be a dad? No way!" I stood up, stomping to the other side of the room. I turned to challenge my father. "One stupid, drunken mistake isn't going to change the course of my life. I have plans for my future." I poked my thumb into my chest.

Though my mother remained quiet, Dad shrugged his shoulders as though he didn't care. He leaned back against the couch, one leg crossed over the other.

"The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray."

Ally and I looked at each other blankly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Edward, I respect that you've made goals for yourself. I applaud that. Unfortunately, you can't always plan life because no matter how perfect your plan is, life has a way of surprising you, especially when you least expect it. Now, sit down."

I wanted to argue with him but I knew the look on his face. I sunk back onto the couch, knowing I was defeated.

"No offense, but you were stupid." Looking at Ally, he added, "You were, too, young lady. It takes two to tango." Gone was the defiance she'd showed her parents as she nodded then bowed her head respectfully.

And then my father told us what we were actually going to do. He seemed to lecture me more than Ally, who faded away quietly and let me take the fall.

Yes, mistakes happen, but we had to fully own up to them. And that meant facing the reality that I was going to be a dad; Ally, a mom. Hands-on and 100% responsible. My parents were willing to help out, but they were not going to be the primary caregivers. He informed me I could still attend college, though it would be local - a subject we shared a difference of opinion on.

My parents were willing to help cover some of the costs. However, Ally and I would both have to get part-time jobs, as well. His definition of part-time and mine varied greatly. I was thinking maybe one night a week but, as Dad pointed out, at minimum wage there was no way I could support my new found family.

The only gig I could find in our small town was as a dishwasher at the local diner. It sucked and I hated every minute of it, but there was no other option. I worked the evening shift Wednesday to Sunday. So much for after school socializing with my buddies. Bye bye football. Ally's job was at the barber shop, sweeping up and stuff. She hated her work as much as I detested mine .

In April Ally had an ultrasound and we found out we were having a girl. I tried not to show my disappointment. Not to sound like an asshole but I really wanted a boy. Someone I could toss a football around with, play rough with, you know?

I was still bemoaning a baby of the female variety when we got home from the doctor. Adding insult to injury, waiting for me in the mailbox was a large manila envelope with the University of Southern California crest proudly displayed on the top left corner. I'd been accepted, a full scholarship as expected. But I knew I'd have to turn it down. I couldn't be a 'hands on' dad from a thousand miles, and a 16-hour car ride, away.

That night, for the first time since finding out Ally was pregnant, I completely lost it. The culmination of everything - giving up the scholarship, quitting football, having a kid, and a girl at that - was all too much. Like a big fucking baby I bawled my eyes out in the shower. My fists punched the tiled wall until my knuckles were split and bleeding. I slid down the wall, and wrapped my arms around my knees. I was giving up so much for this baby, this thing I'd never even met. She'd better be fucking worth it.

The week after turning down USC, I signed up for fall classes at Peninsula College in Port Angeles. I'm not sure which was worse- going to a sub-par college in an equally shit-hole town just an hour from home, or the fact that said college's only sporting teams were basketball and soccer, both of which meant nothing to me.

In June I graduated at the top of my class, and as I walked across the stage to receive my diploma it all felt so anticlimactic. Years of busting my ass for a perfect GPA, which wasn't even needed for entrance to Peninsula College. It fucking sucked.

While all my friends were enjoying summer vacation before they left for school, staying out late, binge drinking, and partying, I worked six and seven days a week, sometimes pulling doubles. I was 'promoted'- big fucking whoop- to line cook which paid more but was a way harder job than dishwasher.

After graduation, I officially moved into the basement with Ally. A part of me did it to spite my dad. To show him I could do it: work, go to school, be in a relationship, and raise a kid together with Ally. I needed to prove to my parents I wasn't a total fuck up. Ally and I slept in the same bed albeit with a gap between us. We didn't have sex very often (and when we did it was just for a physical release, nothing more) but we were at least trying to forge some type of a relationship. Well, I was anyway.

During all this, Ally worked sporadically. More often than not she went out with her friends during the day, lounging at La Push beach or meeting up for a late afternoon lunch somewhere. Her nights were spent around a bonfire or at the movies. She didn't seem to have a care in the world. I was working 60 and 70 hour work weeks and she was slacking off and having a great time. It just didn't seem fair. That's when my resentment started growing, like mold that creeps up, slowly multiplies, and gets bigger.

Bigger like Ally's stomach. And with her increasing size came more and more complaints. Backaches, leg cramps, swollen feet, and exhaustion. Every day a new fucking symptom. I was exhausted, too, working so much and never having down time. We were both stretched to the breaking point until one night it all came to a head.

I'd just worked 11 hours straight, in a sweltering hot kitchen. All I wanted to do was come home, put my feet up, and watch some TV. She started whining about wanting ice cream or something stupid like that and expected I would run out and get whatever her latest craving was.

"I'm fucking tired, Ally. I just got home and I'm not moving off this couch unless it's to take a piss."

"I'm growing a fucking human here. I think the least you can do is get me an ice cream cone."

We yelled back and forth, calling each other names until finally I stomped upstairs to get away from her.

I flopped down on the sofa in my parent's living room. Dad looked up from his easy chair, asking if everything was okay.

"I don't think I can do this, be in a relationship with someone I barely know." I felt myself breaking and I couldn't deal with that on top of everything else.

"You knew her enough to have sex with her."

I glared at my dad. "Please don't lecture me about that right now, okay? Just don't."

"I'm sorry. The thing is, whether you like it or not, you will always have a relationship with Ally- as a couple or not. This baby has knit you two together forever."

I nodded. "I get that, but it's not just that, Dad. I don't know the first thing about babies, let alone being a father. " The pieces of me were coming undone. Unraveling fast. Too fast.

My father draped his arm across my shoulders. I pushed my palms against my eyes, willing away my stupid tears. They came anyway. Dad waited for me to collect myself.

"Son, I believe everything happens for a reason. God knows His plan for you even if we don't. Have faith. When you were born, Mom and I didn't have a clue what we were doing either, but we figured it out. You will, too. And you know what? The most important thing a baby needs is love." He paused, tapping his fingers against my chest. "I know you have that in your heart."

"A girl, though? I mean, nothing against them in general, but I was sort of hoping for a boy. Football, wrestling, monster trucks." I made a manly grunting sound to prove my point.

"You can still do all that with a little girl. And she's going to look up to you like you're her knight in shining armor. You will be the standard by which she will judge all men. Be that man, Edward."

Those three words - be that man - were my epiphany, and echoed in my head. I couldn't let my mistake define me. I was going to make my parents proud of me, but more importantly, I wanted the kid to be proud of me too. I needed to set the bar high for any future, ugh, boyfriends.

Be that man.

I went back downstairs, and apologized to Ally. I tried harder to put my resentment behind me, and made more of an effort to get to know the girl who was carrying my child. It was hard but I owed it to Ally and the little one to at least try to be a family.

On a warm September day, a week before her actual due date, Ally went into labor. It was awful. I didn't know how to help. If I rubbed her back, she told me I was annoying her. If I put a cold cloth on her head, it was too wet. When I told her to breathe like we'd been shown in that baby class, she told me to fuck off.

At one point when Ally was writhing in pain, I begged for drugs. For her, obviously, though I wouldn't have minded some for myself as well. They gave her an epidural, which eased her pain but stalled her labor. After 24 hours of contractions and 2 solid hours of pushing, we still had no baby.

"I can't do this," Ally cried and I couldn't blame her. I was exhausted and she was the one doing all the work.

Thankfully, the doctor agreed it was too much. The baby was too big to come out the…conventional way, and she was booked for a c-section.

An hour later, under the harsh glare of the operating room lights, our eight pound, twelve ounce baby girl was born. Oh, she was beautiful, my Isabella Claire. I lost my heart to her at once. I was shaking when they handed her to me, wrapped up like a baby burrito, certain I was going to drop her. I held on for dear life. I don't think I've ever completely let go since. With her blonde hair and dainty features I'd never seen anything so tiny, so perfect, before. My parents said she was the spitting image of me when I was born. Any question of paternity was answered.

The new mommy seemed to be as enamored as I was; enthralled with her beauty, Ally's smile rivaled mine.

There's only one photo of Ally, Isabella, and myself and it's from there in the OR, taken by a nurse. It's a brief snapshot of the love that was tangible in the room that day. When I look at it, I remember we were happy once. At least for a brief moment.

We settled into life as a family of three. Ally and I did pretty good...for a while. Isabella brought us together. We'd lay together in our bed, propped up on our elbows and stare down at her between us. Those perfect fingers and toes, long eyelashes, pouty little lips, and adorably tiny ears, not to mention the ridiculously cute outfits. I mean infant Converse? Yes! She was fascinating, and I wished I could sit and watch her all day long. Whether she was awake or asleep I'd gawk at her, hypnotized by her loveliness.

And then reality set in.

Parenting was hard. Really fucking hard. Why doesn't anyone tell you that?

The baby cried. A lot. Isabella was colicky - screaming every night from nine p.m. until three a.m. Six solid hours of inconsolable wailing. I understood why sleep deprivation was considered a form of torture. It left Ally and me frustrated and short with each other.

We fought over stupid things, like whose turn it was to get up with the baby or who paid for the last can of formula. On top of being a zombie dad, I still had classes to attend and work obligations. As hard as it was for me, it was just as difficult for Ally. In hindsight I can appreciate how being home with a needy newborn wasn't as glamorous as I'd envisioned in my mind.

Ally's escape was going out with her friends, getting drunk, and rolling into bed at three in the morning. I'd usually get to bed around the same time because of Isabella's colic or studying for exams.

Our relationship suffered, not that there was much of one to begin with. Resentment festered inside me like a cavity; a dull ache at first, then a constant throbbing annoyance I couldn't escape. Ally and I didn't talk, we fought. About anything and everything.

One of Ally's biggest issues with me stemmed from her jealousy of my relationship with Isabella. I admit, I had an intense attachment to her. Needing to be near her, and missing her like crazy when we were apart. I felt like Isabella was an extension of myself; it was almost surreal how fiercely I loved her. Ally called me out on it a few times, telling me it was unnatural and sort of weird. I couldn't deny that I loved her more than life.

The only common denominator for us was Isabella, but even she wasn't enough to keep our family together. Ally and I were on opposite ends of an elastic band, each pulling what we felt was equal weight.

And then, in early January, when Isabella was only four months old, Ally let go of her end of the band and I was the one who got stung.


I know this story is different from the norm and I'm so appreciative of your kind reviews. Thank you, so very much. xo