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Posts tagged ‘Infant’

Aug 22

24 Comments

He Worships at the Altar of the Boob

Dear Cooper:

As a guide son, you are flawless, that requisite dose of captivating cuteness mixed with a heaping helping of “I know exactly how to get you to do whatever I want.” Even if it is rock you for an hour (me) or carry you around in circles until you fall asleep on a shoulder (MTM.) We are not baby people. We do not typically do these things.

But, we are Cooper people.

Here are the things we learned from meeting you:

1. You like to lie on your back and wiggle, free and clear of any encumbrance. Perhaps this is typical baby behavior, or maybe it is just your evidenced glee at being released from the jerking ministrations of me or MTM. I think you laughed for several minutes running, staring up at me from your back, and I don’t know if it was because I make genuinely funny faces or if you were saying “I am SO HAPPY you stopped trying to cuddle me and put me down.”

2. If you are ever constipated, I am the cure. Me. Your name for me will probably be Ex-Lax Lady, or maybe Correctol Mommy if you swing in that direction. I think you pooped your pants almost every time you were transferred to me. In fact, my first foray into holding you caused you to relieve yourself after a 72 hour dry spell. Dang. I’m good.

3. You like some boob, and you’re not picky. You stuck your whole arm into my dress more than once. Poor MTM didn’t know what to do when you tried to burrow your way into his shirt. I tried to excuse your behavior by telling your violated guide father this is just what babies do, even though I have no freaking clue what babies do.

4. I will never understand what it is like to be a parent, how to nurture and grow a person from seed to adulthood when all one really wants to do is stop time, capture random moments and freeze them into a collection of things they can revisit whenever they want until infinity. Knowing what it is like to gaze into your two-month-old eyes looking up at me, realizing that the next time I hold you won’t be that newborn-baby intimate – that’s tough. Don’t misunderstand me. I can’t wait to see all the variations of you: the sounds of your voice as your grow, the colors of your hair, the opinions you form and the interests you have. I don’t want to stunt you in infancy, to leave you tiny and helpless.

But, I know I will always long for the time when I held you. And, you looked up at me from the cradle of my arms. And, you smiled.

Too Much is Just Enough: Treasured Moments

Dec 6

25 Comments

Pennies from Heaven

For those of you who are interested in Luis, the Rotary Gift of Life baby we’re hosting this week, here’s an update. And, because I’m me, a story to go with it.

His heart surgery was a week ago. They found two defects instead of one, landing him in the Pediatric ICU at MUSC for three days. His mom, Meredith, stayed with him at the hospital until he was discharged on Sunday. His home for the next week will be our freezing old house that has been taken over by baby paraphernalia. Seriously, I never knew babies needed so much stuff.

What is bizarre is that I seem to be the only person who can get him to sleep.

Perhaps I had a good teacher. I can remember being very tiny, and my Mom would rock me to sleep in a creaky antique rocking chair. She would hold me close, rub my eyelids and sing the song “Pennies from Heaven” to me.

I’m sure she sang others, but that’s the one I remember. The words to that song must’ve been burned into my brain as an infant. I can still croon every last one of them today.

And, I have, with the few babies I’ve been fortunate enough to keep over the years. My niece, Molly, loved that song so much as a baby that she would wave her hand at me for more when I stopped singing it to her. My ‘may-as-well-be’ niece Cayleigh loved it, too, snuggling up for a one-song-on-repeat set before bedtime, stubbornly refusing to nod off until I’d sung it at least three times in a row.

And now, Luis is a Pennies addict. While I tried a couple of songs from my limited child tune repertoire, “Pennies from Heaven” was the only song that worked.

It’s a tough song for me to sing. Not technically, but emotionally. More than any other song I know, that one reminds me of my gorgeous, young mother, pouring herself into me, her firstborn. For the rest of my life, if I need to recall my mother’s voice, I will hear that song in my head, her impeccable rendition calling down through the tunnel of time.

Every time I sing it, I almost cry. Always, I think of my Mom and see her rubbing my eyelids, serenading me to sleep.

Nov 18

33 Comments

I’m Having a Baby

Please, let me type something immediately. I don’t want to get my poor mother’s hopes up to be dashed by the rest of this entry. I’m having a baby come live in my house for a week.

An actual infant is coming to stay with me for a whole week in December. Luis is from Panama, and he’s three or four months old. He has a fatal heart defect, and he’s coming with his mom to MUSC to have it repaired through Rotary International‘s Gift of Life program.

And, I’m freaking out. I can’t remember when I changed a diaper, especially one of those boy diapers with their streaming projectile surprises. The last time I did one of those, I think, was when I babysat my high school principal’s son, whose cloth diapers and sick tummy put me off of keeping children again for any amount of money.

My friend Amber’s daughter Elena breaks into shrieks whenever I come into her line of vision: shrieking fits of terror, that is. I think she’ll remember me when she’s 50 as the “scary woman who always made her scream.” I guess I just have that look.

Plus, I don’t have a single, solitary baby thing in the house. Do I need a changing table? A crib? A playpen? Toys? Do three-month-olds even play with toys? Or, do they just sort of lie there?

Oh, and I forgot to mention another thing: his mother only speaks Spanish. I can say ‘hola’ and ‘gracias’ and ‘quesadilla’ and ‘no mas,’ and that’s about the extent of it. Luckily for me, MTM still speaks Spanish, sort of. He claims that he’s forgotten it all, and then, when pressed into a situation where he has to use it, he magically transforms himself into this fast-talking, hot Latin man.

In spite of my utter terror of tiny people and my mounting doubts regarding my own abilities, I think Gift of Life is one of the coolest things on earth. Rotarians donate their own funds to pay for life-saving surgeries for children from third-world countries, and the doctors and nurses at MUSC give their time and expertise. Over the years, the East Cooper Breakfast Rotary Club and MUSC have combined forces to save more than 100 children from around the world.

If I don’t drop Luis on his head or put his diaper on backwards, this should be the best Christmas gift I’ve witnessed in a long time – maybe ever.

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