I have the cutest baby in the world.
I know that a lot of mothers might say that, they might even believe it, but the truth is, they’re all wrong. Because I have the cutest baby in the world.
He was a little bit scary when he first came out. Jen told me it was normal that he was covered in blood and…gunk (“Did you read any of the baby books?”) but I still felt a lot better after they cleaned him up.
They wrapped him tightly in a blue blanket then put him on my chest. I wasn’t sure quite how to hold him—he was so tiny. It looked like he would break if I even touched him. Tammy helped me; she showed me where my arms and hands should go, how I should support his head and keep him upright.
Once he was situated, I stared down into his little face. It was the most surreal thing. He was finally here, after all this time. All of his features were delicate and his skin was so soft. He had a lot of hair for someone who was just born—it looked dark but I couldn’t tell yet whether it would have curls. He was so perfect, it took my breath away.
His eyes were huge in his little face, clear and blue and framed by tiny little eyelashes. Tammy told me his eye color could change, but I knew it wouldn’t. He had my eyes, just like Josh had pictured.
That was the other thing—he looked like Josh. His little nose and the shape of his chin. It broke my heart a little bit, but it also made me feel strangely proud. He was beautiful.
I would have held him all day if they would have let me. I was completely captivated, and I couldn’t imagine anything better than staring at this little face for hours. But eventually they had to take him to get checked over, and I was moving to a smaller room for recovery. Reluctantly I handed him off to Tammy, my eyes following his little rolling bassinet until it was out of sight.
* * *
I hated being in the hospital. There were always people coming into my room, poking and prodding me, taking my baby out of my arms and encouraging me to let him go down to the nursery so I could rest better. Yeah right. Like I would be able to rest if he were out of my sight. Besides, Danny slept really well. I started to wonder if all that talk of sleepless nights was an exaggeration. Or maybe my baby was just better than most others.
Annie and Jen were with us as much as possible. I knew they were exhausted, but I think they were (nearly) as in love with Danny as I was. I convinced them to go home and sleep for a while the night after he was born. They came back in the morning with flowers, balloons, and treats for me. They did better than any daddy ever could.
A lactation specialist came in to show me how to nurse. It was very weird and I had a hard time getting used to it. Annie declared it “icky”, and I kind of agreed with her, though I would never admit it. It was supposed to be better for the baby, though, so I decided to stick with it.
The morning after Danny was born, a doctor came by to talk to me about circumcision. I was very torn, and I wished there was a man in my life whose advice I could ask. I hated the idea of them hurting my baby, for any reason. However…
“Have either of you ever been with an uncircumcised guy?” I asked Annie and Jen, after the doctor had left us alone.
“Nope, never,” Annie said.
“I have,” Jen shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Are you sure?” I demanded. “I don’t want him to have problems later with girls. I don’t want him to feel different or anything.”
“It really wasn’t a big deal for me,” Jen assured me. “It definitely wouldn’t keep me from a good guy. I don’t think you need to worry.”
If Danny could someday end up with a girl as amazing as Jen, I decided it didn’t matter. I declined the circumcision—and immediately felt relieved.
My parents came to visit on the second day. They both managed to behave themselves, though my dad was clearly uncomfortable. It pissed me off that he wasn’t effusively in love with Danny, but I tried to keep a lid on it. My mother held him, declared him a beautiful baby, and they were off. I knew my poor mothering skills would open up a whole new realm of criticism for her, but I figured it would at least keep us talking.
* * *
Danny was born early on Saturday morning. They let me go home with him on Monday. Annie and Jen had both taken the morning off so they could be with me. We spent about half an hour picking out the perfect outfit for him. Annie had brought several of the things we got at the shower back to the hospital for me to choose from—but they had both gone out and purchased a few more outfits. With the three of us around, this boy would never want for fashion.
Finally we decided on a green romper decorated with little monkeys. It was adorable, and he totally rocked it out, if I do say so myself.
After the nurse came out to inspect that our car seat was properly installed, we were off. I sat in the back with Danny. Every bump and turn Jen made would send me into panic. I could imagine a million terrible scenarios in which something happened to my baby—and we hadn’t even gotten home yet.
We pulled up in the driveway and I promptly burst into tears. The girls had decorated the entire yard and front porch. There were streamers and balloons everywhere and a giant cardboard stork bearing a sign which read, “Welcome Home, Baby Danny and Mommy Ginny!” It was so nice of them.
“God, you cry an awful lot these days,” Annie muttered as she got out of the car. “It’s like you’re turning into one of those girls in front of my eyes.”
I got out of the car as well and walked around to Danny’s side to unstrap him from his seat. He was wide awake and blinking up at me. “Danny,” I said to him happily, “this is your home, baby.”
“Yeah, it’s a chick’s pad, buddy, so you better just deal with it,” Annie told him in mock-serious tones.
I walked him into the house, looking around happily. I loved this place, and now my baby was here. “Things are gonna be great,” I whispered to him. “Just you wait and see.”
Chapter Thirty-four
I thought being pregnant was hard. And labor was pretty awful. But they had nothing, nothing, on having a newborn in the house.
I was exhausted. Every time I would close my eyes Danny would wake up screaming. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. My perfect little sweet baby from the hospital had turned into a screaming, demanding terror—impossible to keep satisfied. “Just like a man,” Annie sneered in exhaustion.
The girls helped out as best they could, but knowing they both had work, I just couldn’t let them stay up with me at night—though they offered. I’m sure the screaming kept them awake plenty. When they would get home they would demand I go to bed for a few hours while they dealt with Danny. Those were the only hours of sleep I got for the first two weeks.
My nipples were sore. They don’t tell you much about that when extolling the amazingness of childbirth. And I was constipated. And I had hemorrhoids. Sexy stuff here, folks. It was a good thing I was man-less, to be honest. Who would ever want to sleep with me again?
There were moments, perfect moments, that made up for all the awfulness, more or less. The first time Danny clutched my finger was pretty amazing—how could he be so strong? Giving him a bath was awesome, too. I would set his little plastic tub up on our kitchen table and lay him in the warm water, inspecting every inch of his little baby body. I would gently splash water on his tummy to make his eyes go big with surprise. And then I would dry him off, cover him with lotion, and snuggle him until he was warm again.
Every time Danny made eye contact with me, it would pretty much take my breath away. He could stare at me for so long, with such intensity. I couldn’t remember anyone else ever looking at me like that.
Because of that, even the breast feeding lost its weirdness with time. When Danny was eating he would stare up at me, unblinking, like he was memorizing my face. I started to really enjoy those moments when it was just him and me, holding him so close, feeling the way his body would move against me with each tiny breath.
His diapers were a different story. How could such a tiny
person create such a mess? I was, for the first time, grateful that I had spent so much time babysitting. Changing dirty diapers rarely fazed me anymore. Besides which, I was usually too exhausted to take too much notice of anything, horrible diaper fragrances included.
Jen, on the other hand, seemed to have plenty of energy to notice everything. Every day when she would get home from work she would sweep Danny up into her arms, kissing his face and cooing at him. It was pretty sweet—until the questions started. “How much did he eat today? Did he poo? What did it look like?” She was driving me slightly crazy—but as the interrogation was generally followed by her insisting I go to bed for a while, I never complained.
Annie was the complete opposite. She could care less about issues relating to his eating, digestion, or sleeping habits. Annie treated him, not like a baby, but like she would any other member of the household. She would take him from my arms and walk away with him, talking to him in a low serious voice more often used when talking to grown-ups. Walking him to her bedroom, she would show him the contents of her wardrobe, explaining the differences between the various fabrics. Or read aloud to him from Rolling Stone magazine, explaining which bands were good and which bands were crap.
One Saturday, when Danny was about three weeks old, Annie offered to watch him for a bit so I could get some stuff done around the house. I knew she had a really big audition that coming week, so I was touched that she would take time out of rehearsing to help.
As I was heading to the laundry room with yet another load of Danny’s dirty clothes and burp rags, I happened by her room—where she was performing an unfamiliar monologue—one that was clearly peppered with swear words and appeared to be about prostitution. I was worried for a moment: surely this was too mature for a newborn. But then I looked at Danny, sitting calmly in his chair. He was staring at her, wide-eyed, and seemed perfectly content and calm. I realized that he was simply enthralled by her voice, her energy, regardless of what she was saying. Smiling, I continued on with the laundry.
As I put his folded things back in his drawers, I heard Annie moving around downstairs, talking to him softly. “You would just have to blow out your diaper as soon as Annie took over, wouldn’t you? You couldn’t save it for Mommy or for Aunt Jen, could you?...Oh God, kid, seriously? How is that even possible?” I heard Annie making exaggerated gagging noises and I couldn’t help but laugh—but I was in no hurry to go help.
After a few moments of silence, I heard something that made my blood run cold: Annie yelped.
I bolted down the stairs as fast as I could. She was shouting for me now, and she sounded really freaked out. I reached the living room with Jen hot on my heels. Annie was kneeling in front of Danny, who was laying on his changing mat on the floor. At first, I couldn’t tell what was wrong. I could see that his chest was moving and there was no blood…
“What, what is it?” I gasped.
“Something fell off of him!” she cried. “I don’t know what it is! I was just putting his diaper back on and…”
“You dope,” Jen said, kneeling next to her. “That’s just his umbilical cord.”
“Is it supposed to fall off?” I asked, still inwardly panicking.
“Yes,” Jen exclaimed, clearly exasperated. “Seriously, Ginny, how have you not read the baby book?”
“I have!” I said. “Well, I mean, I’ve read a lot of it. I tend to gravitate towards chapters about signs to look for that he might be sick or something. That’s kind of my main worry.”
She laughed at me. “Gin, your baby is fine. Nothing is going to hurt him. Maybe you need to bone up on the day to day stuff instead.”
“Here’s a bigger problem,” Annie said. “What the heck are we supposed to do with that thing?”
“I guess you just throw it away,” Jen said, shrugging.
“I’m not picking it up!” Annie insisted.
I looked at Jen, but for all her expertise, she was determinedly not meeting my eyes.
“Fine,” I sighed, picking up a tissue to wrap the umbilical cord in. As I picked it up, I glared at the girls. “I cannot wait until it’s your turn for all of this!”
Chapter Thirty-five
One month: This is a great time for Baby to start practicing his Tummy Time—a very important part of your baby’s development that will help him with his motor skills. Hearing you speak is also very important to your baby’s development. While you’re down there on your tummies, it’s a great time to talk to Baby—and with his coos and gurgles he might just talk back! It is very common for moms to be feeling very hormonal four weeks in. Try to take good care of yourself and make sure you have someone to talk to about your feelings. Hand Baby over to Dad and get out for some you-time. You deserve it!—Dr. Rebecca Carr, A Fabulous First Year with Baby!
When Jen came home from work on Thursday afternoon, I was sprawled out on the living room floor, Danny lying on a quilt next to me. We were both crying hysterically.
“Ginny?” she shouted over the noise. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
I only cried harder.
Jen knelt down next to me and picked up Danny, bouncing him gently in one arm while she rubbed my back with her other hand. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she soothed. “Everything’s fine.”
I wasn’t sure which of us she was trying to comfort.
Eventually Danny stopped crying in her arms. I lay there for a long time, letting her rub my back, before I finally took a deep breath and sat up.
“There,” she said quietly. “That’s better.” She reached over to Danny’s basket and pulled out a burp rag, holding it out to me so I could wipe my face. “You wanna talk about it?”
I took a shuddering breath. “It’s stupid,” I gulped.
Jen smiled at me. “Doesn’t matter. I still want to hear.”
“The book says we’re supposed to be doing tummy time,” I started in a rush. “So I’ve been trying to get him to lay on his belly with me, but every time I did, he started wailing! And today, all I could think was that if he doesn’t practice his tummy time, he’s never going to have a strong neck. And if his neck doesn’t get strong, he won’t be able to sit up. And if he can’t sit up, he’ll never crawl…” I was crying again, taking big shuddering gasps as tears spilled down my checks.
“Ginny,” she said calmly. “You’re spiraling. So he didn’t feel like being on his tummy today. Maybe he has gas. Maybe he’s full. Maybe he wanted to be held. It’s okay, I promise.”
“You don’t think it means something’s wrong?” I gulped.
“Nope,” she said. “I think he’s perfect.” He did look pretty perfect now, sleeping in her arms. “You know what else I think?” she continued. “I think you need to get out of this house for a little while.”
“I do get out of the house,” I argued. “I take Danny for a walk every day. And we sit out on the porch when it’s not too hot.”
“I mean without Danny,” she replied. “You need to get out of this house and have some time to yourself.”
I stared at her in bewilderment. Without Danny? Was she insane?
“Are you insane?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “I am very wise. You need a break.”
“I’m not leaving Danny here,” I said. “No way.”
“Ginny, I watch him all the time. I know what I’m doing. He’ll be fine. Besides, in a couple weeks you’re going to be heading back to work.” I felt a sharp stab in my stomach at the thought. “I think it would be good for you to start getting some practice now.”
I couldn’t deny she had a point. But the thought of leaving him…
“What would I even do?” I asked her. I was having a hard time picturing the world outside my baby. What did I do in my free time before he came along?
“You could go get a mani-pedi,” she suggested. “That would probably relax you.”
Oh. A mani-pedi. A beauty salon. I loved stuff like that, getting pampered. And it had been so, so long…
&nb
sp; “I’m gonna bet by the glazed look in your eyes that a mani-pedi sounds good to you,” she laughed. “You should go. Annie will be home any minute to give me a hand. It’ll take you, like, an hour. And then you’ll be back with Danny.”
It was tempting, I had to admit. So very tempting.
“Ginny, just go.”
* * *
Ten minutes later I was in my car, heading into Royal Oak and my favorite salon. I couldn’t help but feel excited. I had always loved beauty salons, even when I was little and would have to sit and wait while my mom had her hair set. There was something about the smell, the buzz of female conversation, the air of expectation and excitement. A day at the salon could always boost my spirits.
The technician set me up in a comfortable chair and eased my feet into the spa bath. I almost moaned at the contact—the warm water and the bubbles felt amazing. I hadn’t realized how much my feet ached, or how sore my back was. I looked around the arms of the chair and found, to my excitement, a control panel. These chairs were massaging. Ahhh.
I let the sounds of talk and laughter, the warm water, and the pressure on my back wash over me, until my worries about leaving Danny faded to a low buzz in the back of my mind. For the first time in weeks, I was starting to feel like myself.
* * *
“Something happened,” Annie said, meeting me at the door. I felt my heart stop. Danny.
“What?” I asked, grabbing her arm. “Where is he? What’s wrong?”
“The baby’s fine!” Jen called out from inside.
“Oh God, yeah, sorry,” Annie said hurriedly, pulling me into the house. “Sorry. Danny’s totally okay.”
I could have slapped her. I tried to catch my breath. “You scared me!” I said.
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