birthday

baby d will be 18 months old this week. 18 months away from the night of blood and pain when he was cut loose from mamarama.

there had been a placental abruption. both of them were in mortal danger. i stood by the OR door, my view of mama obscured by half-a-dozen strangers in medical gowns. i couldn't see my wife, but i saw a lot of her blood. i remember watching a nurse moving round the table, counter-clockwise, collecting absorbent pads sodden with blood, with mama's blood, putting them in a sack. i remember wondering- "where does all the blood go?" it was a "routine" emergency c-section i was told as nurses came in and out, and not too worry. what in the hell is a "routine emergency"? i wonder if medicos realize how ridiculous they sound when they tell you not to worry? did they imagine i'd just go grab a cup of coffee and the newspaper? i've never felt so helpless. then i heard the baby cry, and felt so relieved i cried myself.


he was so, so tiny, gray and slick with gore. the pedes brought him out of the OR into the anteroom where i waited. he wailed as they wiped him down and warmed him with i swear-to-god some kind of hair dryer. they wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to me. i said hello to my son for the first time, and he stopped crying immediately. he stared at me wide-eyed, listening as quiet, soothing nonsense spilled out of my mouth. it was gut wrenching when they took him away to be weighed, measured, rested. i stayed by the door to the OR for another hour, until the doctor came out to say mama would be fine. i went then to the nursery to hold baby d again, introducing myself to this strangely alert, wizened creature so suddenly become a central concern of my life. it was another three hours before mama was put together enough to hold him, and three more before she was alert enough to want to. we were all together then, all breathing the same air for the first time.

18 months. The days race by. every day his understanding astounds me. he's the same quiet, watchful baby i met on day one. his growing physical ability nurtures his curiosity. he gnaws on everything. he's headstrong. the next 18 months will (god willing) bring speech, and 10,000 questions. why is fire hot? why do i have to wear shoes? why is up up? maybe someday, he'll ask what it was like on the night he was born. in the meantime, he'd like me to read him another book, thank you.