The First
…then it's 1 p.m. I'm counting out time for my wife to push and take breaths.
The nurse asks, "do you want me to get a mirror so you can see the head, Mom?"
"No!" she replies quickly.
"Here, Dad, take a look,” she says, pointing out my son's pre-crowned head.
"Uh...Oh wow! He's got more hair than I do!"
More counting...more pushing... The doctor's here. And push! Almost...a little more. Take a breath. Here we go. Push! One more, here comes your baby. PUSH! Out comes our son. He's crying, he's wet, he's purple! He's beautiful. I cut the cord and he's laid on his mom. His mom is very calm but very happy to see him. I think they know each other.
We're over at the warmer now and he's getting cleaned up. Look at those feet! He's going to be tall like his dad. He's still crying but not so purple. I feel it's silly to ask but do, "Can I touch him? Do I need gloves?"
"Oh yes, sure, and you don't need gloves," the nurse responds with a smile.
He feels soft. I think he thinks my hands are cold. My hands are cold. His eyes are open! His eyes are blue! He has his mom's nose. Whew, good thing.
The nurse hands me our eight pound five ounce, 20.5 inch gift and I take him back to his mom. He loves his mom. I love his mom. Pretty soon it's time for him to go get cleaned up in the nursery. Beaming, I push him in his baby cart through the hallways all the way there.
The nurse who wiped him down and weighed him up after he was born is waiting for us in the nursery. She wanted to make sure she got to finish getting him ready. He's the coolest baby so that makes sense. His blood glucose and temperature are both a bit low so he gets a snack. He likes that. He also gets a bath and some shots. He doesn't like that. Once he's cleaned up and warmed up I hold him until Mom's ready for him in the room. We bond.
While I'm holding him and staring at him in wonder I realize that I have that look on my face. It's a look I'd seen but knew I hadn't had until now. There's a mental bookmark sticking up in my mind, reminding me of the last time I saw that look. The year before, our good friends adopted a baby girl after a miraculous set of circumstances. After they adopted their daughter they had a big party to celebrate. My wife and I stayed up celebrating with them until the wee hours of the morning.
As we were getting ready to leave, our friend said we had to take one more look at the baby and he led us down the hall to where she was sleeping. We quietly walked up to her bassinet and peered in at their beautiful baby girl. The moon cast a pearly light on her through the window and she had her little hands above her head while she slept peacefully. I didn't want to wake her and slowly turned to leave but stopped when I saw my friend's face. His eyes were shining as he gazed down in wonder at his little child and his face beamed with a love I could recognize but couldn’t understand. The look.
I remember being aware that someone took a picture of me holding my son there in the nursery, but I knew I wouldn't need to see it. No picture could adequately capture the surrealism of that moment or contain the vivid understanding I had in my head. My dad once said he sees memories as photographs in his head. I can definitely relate to that now.
Anyway, pretty soon the nurse lets me know I can take the baby to our postpartum room. Our little family stayed in that hospital room (sans sleep) for the next two nights and then went out on our own.
Three years, another child, and about the same amount of sleep later, we’re still here. Happy birthday, Eli!