With apologies to The King, having my baby is not a lovely way of saying how much you love me—it’s just a bad idea unless we’re married.
I don’t mean this personally or nothing, but it does occur to me that many thousands of persons across the fruited plain have decided to have their baby and then figure out the pluses and minuses of Holy Matrimony at a future date. I’ve seen this over and over her in the Roaring Fork Valley of Colorado and in other parts of this nation herein. What you end up with every time is a baby with none of the bounds of matrimony that keep the happy couple together at their unhappiest.
I saw one such instance not long ago where they had said baby and the father nearly had a cow right up to the penultimate moment before he strapped on the white tie a year later and said “I do” after he already did. Another one I know is right down the street where they like the no-marriage rule so much they did it twice—two lovely angels were produced upon demand lickety-split—but all that did was to double the heartache and pain of the heretofore lovely and longstanding couple.
I’ll give you another for instance, a young and beautiful girl of our recent acquaintance who is factually engaged to her former boyfriend now dubbed fiancé. He has dibs on beautiful in other words, and they had plans for the big day, but then there was double money trouble, of course, and the date slipped right along with the whole idea aisle-walking.
“But I don’t need to be married to have a baby with you,” said said fiancé.
Now hold on to your horses, Jethro! You’re saying you’re not ready to marry this young and beautiful girl—because why not?—but you are ready to knock her up and bring a new life into this life without knowing what in the name of all that’s sacred is going to happen to this kid.
Call me old-fashioned, but that’s a load of Mountain Dew without the mountain.
Here’s my advice: get married if you want to get married and don’t if you don’t. But don’t have a baby until after you get married.
Do you need a picture? A cartoon of little precious with googly eyes upturned?
I’ll grant you the love-child exception only if you can say with a straight face that you were using contraception religiously and did everything humanly possible to avoid having a baby out of wedlock. You get that exception from me and my kind only if you then (a) get married; or (b) make a permanent contractual and financial commitment for the welfare of that poor misbegotten child.
Are we on the same page, here? Having a baby is not exactly the same as moving in with your cute boyfriend.
I’m not talking about living in sin. I’m all for that and have done a fair amount of it in my time my very own self, including at the present time as I perch on the very verge of matrimony. But that doesn’t mean the intended is having my goddamn baby, though at this point it would a physical impossibility to do same.
I’ve got to blame somebody so I am actually blaming Hollywood for this. Not the movies but the movie stars—they know who they are—for having their unwed babies willy-nilly and then living like it’s just like being married, which it is not. You have your exceptions and I’ll give you Kurt and Goldie. But they are exceptions, and the rule is if you are going to go to the trouble of having a baby on purpose, then you should got to the trouble of signing a contract, i.e., marriage, that says both of you damn well plan on taking care of that baby to the age of maturity.
Now that would be a lovely way of saying how much you love him/her.