Noel’s Baby

Noel wants a baby. Badly.

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Notes: Don’t be alarmed, this is not MPREG. Slight swearing, kissing.

This fic is to be read (in your head) as a monologue, a la “Sweet” or “Midfielding”.


Noel’s Baby by booshbear

I always wanted to have a child. A little nippa’ running around, calling me Daddy. I always thought I would.. one day… but when I fell in love with Julian, I had to put that on hold. You see, he didn’t want kids. He “wanted to focus on his work”, which was fine, for a while. But I got bored. Precious years were ticking away from my life and I was still childless. There was no way I was going to live to old age without the fulfilment of having a family. So one day, I did something about it.

One night we were together, we were watching telly like we do every Sunday night. Flipping through the channels, Julian found a documentary about giraffes that captivated him. He started watching as a laugh, knowing full well that I love giraffes, but like most things, I got bored of it. When I reached for the remote to change the channel, he grabbed my hand to stop me. I thought to myself, “Alright. Easy. It’s just giraffes”. So I leaned back and watched with him. I became lost in my thoughts, and became slightly existential.

Then something snapped me out of my fog, and my eyes were pulled to the TV screen. A new mother giraffe was licking her newborn.. calf, or whatever a baby giraffe is called. Julian was staring so much at the screen, I wasn’t quite sure if he was even blinking. The love that the mother had for the baby was the same that I wanted. I had that love for Ju, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to show my love to the world, in form of a baby. I wanted to be that giraffe. I looked at Julian with a smile, and he just glanced at me with his beady little eye, and continued staring at the screen. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as me, but I could never be sure with Julian.

The programme finally ended, and I was quick to change the channel. I didn’t want another show to come on, maybe elephants this time, and distract him away from me. I needed to talk to him. I needed to tell him what I was feeling. We talk about everything together, sometimes too much. But I know he’s always there for me, whatever I need.

So we talked. I told him how much I wanted a baby, and how I didn’t know what I would do if I never had one. Julian, of course, said something to the effect of “well I can’t have one, and neither can you”. Poor Julian – he never thinks outside of the box. But I continued anyway, and told him that I read somewhere that a baby could be made without a womb, or something, and that you could even customise it to your liking. Ju had to think it over, because he never really wanted a baby in the first place, but I told him to consider it, because it would really make me happy. I suggested that I could find a friend of mine to be the carrier, but Julian just told me I’m thinking too much and that I should go to sleep. He turned off the telly, and the light, kissed me goodnight, and tucked himself into bed.

I couldn’t sleep well that night. I felt sorry that I said anything. I felt stupid. Maybe I was just thinking too much. Maybe I was writing too much. Maybe I was letting my fantastical writing get to my head. But I really wanted to be a father. I wanted nappies and buggies and baby clothes. And most importantly I wanted it to be his. Mine. Ours. Was that too much to ask? At least he didn’t dismiss me and say “We’ll get a puppy”.

I must’ve fallen asleep because when I woke up, Julian wasn’t in bed. I always wake up before him. The coffeemaker wasn’t on, and the towels in the bathroom were left untouched. I went to look for him but he wasn’t in the house. I went downstairs to check the front entrance, and I found him sitting on the front steps, smoking in his pyjamas, surrounded by cigarette butts. I went, embarrassingly in my long shirt and pants, to sit next to him. He told me he had a dream last night; one of the best he ever had. In his dream he was walking in the park with me, and his two children. He was holding the hand of his toddler that looked just like him, and I had my infant in a Baby Bjorn on my chest, and she looked looked just like me. I couldn’t believe it! I wish I had a dream like that. Leave it to him to get the best dreams. Best of all, he was happy; as happy as he could be.

Unfortunately, he felt his dream-self didn’t match his reality-self. He still wasn’t altogether comfortable with the idea of having kiddies running around, messing up his scripts and his concentration. He felt he would never be able to write with screeching kids taking over the house. He wanted me to be happy, and he felt he was letting me down by not wanting children. And then he said the inevitable words, “Maybe we should get a puppy instead.”

I was torn. I really thought he changed his mind – the dream was a good sign! He just had to believe in himself. He would be a great father, he just didn’t know it. Here on this step, he stubbed out his current cigarette, and opened up to me.

He was afraid of his temper. He knew that he was able to scare people with his tone, and he couldn’t face the image of his child whimpering in fear because of something he said, or rather the way that he said it. I hugged him tightly and said, “You are going to raise a strong child. One that’s not going to be afraid of who he is, and one that’s not going to be pushed around by others. I know that because I know you. I love how you stand up for yourself and you don’t take sh-t from anybody. You have your way and you know what’s best. That’s what I love about you. You’re my yang. I’m too yin.” He smiled and kissed me, but said that he still had to think about it. He went back inside, and I went to follow him.

Two weeks later, Julian still didn’t have a decision, and desperate times needed desperate measures. I rang my best ladyfriend Caroline and told her our situation. You see, she was a lesbian way before we were a couple, and she wanted to be pregnant, but couldn’t see herself raising a child. So, I had an idea.

I would very delicately ask if she would like to be the surrogate mother of our child. She would, em, create the baby, with our help of course, and give it to us when it’s done growing in her belly. The process wouldn’t be very scientific, nor was it completely safe. Basically, I would f-k her, then Julian would, and let the best sperm win. Yeah, it wasn’t the best way to do it, but it made sense to me. There was one problem – I’d rung her before I told Julian about my plan, and when he found out, he was not surprisingly mad.

“NO WAY!” he yelled when I told him. “Are you out of your f-king mind? I’m really sick of this baby business. I told you a million times I don’t want a child, and I’m not changing my mind. There’s a reason why I don’t want a baby; if it’s anyway as annoying as you are, I want nothing to do with it. And that’s final!”

Oh God, I went too far. I should’ve just kept it in my head. Like the time I peed my pants in year six. ‘Don’t tell anyone’. It should’ve stayed as a joke. As a “Ooh, I wonder what life would be like if I had a baby with him. I wonder if I should’ve taken that road instead of this one.” Why’d I have to say it aloud? Why’d I have to be so stupid?

I went to sleep on the couch that night.

I waited for the day that Julian wasn’t mad at me anymore. It felt like ages, but it was a week and three days. Not that I was counting or anything. I completely dropped the idea of having a baby, out of fear that I would lose Julian forever. I began to accept the fact that I was never going to have a child. As a man in love with another man, it just wasn’t going to happen. As much as I loved Julian, I still wanted more. Maybe we should’ve gotten that puppy after all.

A year had past by this point. I had completely suppressed my want for children, and fully enjoyed my time with Julian. We were like a newlywed couple – we took walks together, shared baths, went to the cinema, all without kiddies. I was getting used to the idea of growing old with Ju, watching The Whites play The Addicks, feeding pigeons in the park, playing chess, listening to jazz. It seemed like the life I’d want to live. Having children wasn’t everything – it was just something. Other people had children, but it wasn’t in our future ‘s’all. Julian didn’t get mad at me nearly as much once I stopped the baby talk. Life was looking good.

On 16th April, 2004, our lives had changed forever. We got a call in the middle of the night from Susanne, Caroline’s partner, to say Caroline was about to give birth, and she wanted us to be there. I didn’t even know Caroline was pregnant! We rushed down to the hospital, but unfortunately missed the birth. It was better off, ‘cos I don’t think I could handle the procedure anyway. We walked into her room to find Caroline holding a beautiful baby girl. Mossy brown hair, beady brown eyes; I could’ve sworn it was Julian in baby form. Apparently, Julian thought so too, for taking one look at her, he said “I want to adopt her. I want her to be mine”. I think he meant to say it in his head, but it came out and we all heard it. He does that sometimes.

“That’s why I called you,” said Caroline. “I want her to be yours. I’m giving her to you.”

I was floored! Good things sure come to those who wait! We named her Marianne Nyx Pettifer-Fielding. You could probably tell who picked which name.

We were then thrown into a world of nappies and bottles, just like I wanted! Unfortunately, we were a bit unprepared for the sudden change of events. We didn’t have a place for Mari to sleep at first. For the first few days she slept in the living room until I cleared out my art workshop, carpeted the wooden floor, and repainted the walls. I painted a mural onto the wall, including ducks, sheep, and of course, giraffes. After Julian’s OK, Mari moved into her new room.

A year and a half later, Julian finally decided it was time for us to have a biological child. I was thrilled! I knew he would come to his senses! It took two years seven months to make his decision, not that I was counting. We had an anonymous surrogate and my little swimmers as the donor. Our son was born 30th July, 2006. He’s named Raymond Ace Julian Pettifer-Fielding – big name for a little guy. Raymond after me dad, Ace after Frehley, and Julian after the one and only. I needed to put him in the name as a thank you for always standing by me no matter how strange my ideas get.

And this is our life now. Ju has his daughter, I have my son. Our children. We’re parents! Could’ya believe that? I can’t! It’s a dream come true. A very long awaited dream, like when you want to dream about marrying a celebrity, but it never comes. This is even better than that. We’re fathers, Daddy and Da’, together raising beautiful children. Our children. Our family.

We’re just one big, happy, almost normal family now, and I couldn’t be happier. This, my friends, is what life’s all about.

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