Oh, baby

"So I might not really have my baby on Sunday?" her whispery voice asking for a different answer this time.

"No," I explain, again, with a shake of my head. "A due date is just a guess."

And I agree with her that it would be nice to know, a definite plus for the schedule. I tell her the story of a desperately needed haircut that I didn't get because my baby had other ideas. It's just the way it goes. It will work out. It will be fine. I hope. I choose to believe.

"So nobody really knows?" she tries again, and her eyes are intently questioning.

Surely she really understands that, and it's just that the idea of any-time-now is unnerving. I can't blame her for looking for some certainty when she's had so little of it, when the future remains a question mark though she's days away from motherhood. When she's only seventeen.

I can't say that I've ever been in this position, to have a student who's days away from delivery, not to mention the baby's father in the desk to my right. But here we are, and I tell you, they're trying so hard. The way they help each other makes me think of an old married couple, though with less bickering and more Algebra. Maybe it's the way she shuffles around and he carries her bag. It's definitely not high school romance, and it gives me a glimmer of hope, though the real test has not quite yet graced them with her squalling, sleep-depriving presence. Please, for all their sakes, let this somehow work out okay.

Let their fledgling maturity win out over their panic. ("No, she does not need to sleep in the car until the baby comes. You will have plenty of time to get to the hospital. Plenty. She will be able to walk to the car. And she needs to sleep well this week because she may never sleep again.") Let the grown-ups in their lives, me included, do what they can to help this new mom and dad become instant grown-ups, too. And let none of the other teenagers in this classroom get the impression that this is a good idea, or a life-choice to be making, or a possibility to be even for one second entertaining, especially the thirteen-year-old with the eighteen-year-old boyfriend who sits next to her in Civics, please baby Jesus, amen.