“Babies are such a nice way to start people.” ~Don Herrold
On the day Ike was born I went for a brief visit with his mama. Upon my arrival she and Jason were sitting there all nonchalant like “No big deal. I just had a human being come forth from my stomach and now we’re just chillin’” My natural reaction to such an event, the birth of another person and having that person COME OUT OF ME would be somewhere on the Look at what has been brought to me/Circle of Life/Mammals are amazing/look at his tiny toes! spectrum. But there they were ensconced in a genuine love for someone who was all of 10 hours old. Predicting his personality and his poops and hospital food as if it were an everyday occurrence. Why yes, having a baby has been happening since the dawn of mankind and so really, it’s not that big of a deal and yet I was overcome by the hugeness of it all. Often I read mocking of women on the Internet by other women of course – but that’s a totally different story on Women: Why do we hate each other so much? – because they (she who just gave birth) is behaving as if it (giving birth) is the most amazing experience ever and treats the event like she’s the only person to ever do it.
That’s because in that moment, looking at this new person is the most amazing experience ever. Parent or not.
I was afraid to touch him. I peeked inside his bassinet at this little baby burrito. Amy said “Get in there! Get you some!” I picked him up as gently as humanly possible and then refused to move for the next 15 minutes. I just stood there admiring his features. When the crook of my arm started to hurt I still just stood there statuesque. What if something happened as I switched him to my other arm. “You can sit down!” she and Jason said. I could sit down but what if I tripped and fell and I broke your baby? I thought. So I gingerly sat myself on the seat of a chair once again frozen in the awesomeness of having this tiny person in my arms and gripped by the fear that I could do something wrong. I am the woman who has not removed her iPhone from it’s protective case since it’s purchase. My $300 dollar phone. I worry that it might break. That worry and anxiety passed right along to holding Isaac. A fear that I could be doing it wrong.
But they trusted me with their child and they always have since week five of their parenting almost six years ago. So I sat there with Ike in my arms staring at him. Just staring. They spoke around me and I looked at his nose and his eyes. He was perfect. I mean absolute perfection. I’m not saying this because I love him (they are my little DC family and I love those boys) but because he is perfect. He has his own personality that is unscathed by the bullshit of the world. He knows nothing of cruelty and life to him is that last week he was swimming in water and now he’s out and about. Everything is so new to him. I could only sit there and absorb and have these very life affirming, this is what it’s all about thoughts.
Amy was happy that he was so chill with me. I’m the baby whisperer, I said. What? I’m good with wee ones. “You should tell your job that. You need to be with me because you’re the baby whisperer and I need you.” Well…if I must.
6 Comments
What a perfect baby. (I’m still completely in awe and amazed by Every Single Infant. Babies never get old. (Figuratively!))
They make good babies, those two.
I think the world could do with a bit more reverence…thanks to you and the newly-larger-family for putting some out there.
What a completely perfect summation of what it’s like to meet a new human. I’m always in awe of a new wee life and how in this tiny form is an entire human being.
Dude, you are totally the baby whisperer.
I like the line, “They spoke around me.” That’s what it’s like.
Those two do make good babies. They are lucky to have you write about ‘em.
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