This is the story of the time my embryo morphed into a baby and my indifference began to wane. If you'd like to know more about the reasons behind the origin of my baby disdain you can click here.
If you'd rather not read on because I sound pretty crummy and you think CPS should take my baby away from me, I can understand that. If you're willing to overlook my flaws, shall we continue?
As Fetus was in the process of escaping the womb into the bright lights of the delivery room, the dread that had been occupying so much of my mind space the previous days was on the back burner. The tears I was currently suppressing were the sympathetic type; in response to the pain my lovely was feeling from the ongoing assault to her body. Now I won’t get into the labor game much at the moment, except to say that moms win, hands down. All the mom and dad arguments across the world should end with moms saying, “yah but pregnancy.” It’s like hey, let’s celebrate the end of your 40 weeks of misery (pregnancy yah its beautiful duh, but it’s no picnic) with a party. At this party you will be the main event: all you have to do is squeeze an eight pound burrito with elbows out your birth canal while we all watch. Labor deserves a post of it’s own, so let’s get back to the delivery room. On top of all that fun labor stuff, we later found out at the same time Scarlett was experiencing the beginnings of a spinal headache. Oy vey.
With my brain somewhat preoccupied, it’s no surprise the first thing that jolted me back to reality were the baby’s shrieks. But why is she shouting at us, I thought. It's her birthday and people don't shout at birthday parties. You see, THIS is why I've been lobbying so hard to skip over the baby stage. Just can't reason with ‘em. OOOH wait... Look at that hair! So dark, but of more importance, so much. I thought babies were bald? Wait a minute... No way. DID SCARLETT JUST GIVE BIRTH TO A TODDLER?!?! I thought surely all my prayers had been answered and we were skipping the freaky baby stage and heading straight for Toddlerdom. Hallelujah!
Yet, something was off. I had seen a toddler in real life previously and the creature thrashing around in front of me with a fire in her belly was unlike any of my previous encounters. I quickly made up my mind that this was in fact, only a baby. A toddler would handle herself with much more grace in a situation like this.
An angel maybe, but definitely not a toddler.
Suddenly the nurses are urging me to grab the scissors, it's time to cut the cord. The next thing I know, I'm squeezing with all my might; trying to cleave my way through this rubbery tail thing coming straight out of the spot on my baby where her belly button should be. In a prior time the nurses had informed me when cutting said umbilical cord it would behoove me to use excessive force. Sometimes it takes two cuts, they said. Ouch. Sounds painful for baby. The wheels began to turn. So let me get this straight; Baby just spent the better part of her day being slowly shoved, forcibly one can presume, from her cozy amniotic palace into this cold, sterile delivery room and THE FIRST THING YOU DO IS CUT OFF HER FEEDING CORD? I didn't have time to voice my concerns, but I knew this was no way to welcome a guest. Cry Baby, cry, this is the least you've earned. As I further dwelled on Baby's plight, I noticed a shift in my baby philosophy. Baby needs an advocate; this is a job I can do.
As the nurses laid the squealing pig to her mother's chest for some skin to skin time, I began to see past the slimy goo covering her body and the cone shaped head smooshed against my wife’s adult skin and I felt a new emotion stirring within me. I didn't know it at the time, but this was the beginning of Baby Love, an affection that would overwhelm myself by night.
See, have a little empathy! And who knows? Maybe love will follow. See ya next week, we’re gonna get real emotional!