I just got an email that friends of ours from Madison had a baby boy Wednesday night. I didn't even know they were pregnant, so envisioning them with a baby is SHOCKing. (Why do we say "they" were pregnant when it's really just "she"? Annoying.) Getting news like this is the mental equivalent of the one-day pregnancy. I cannot fathom those stories about women who only realize they're pregnant when they go into labor. Sigh.
So there they are, thousands of miles away with a three day old. For me, those first few months with a tiny little eat-n-sleeper felt similar to playing under a living room blanket tent all day as a kid. All cozy and close, the outside world tended to fade. The absolute control over the perfect micro-environment yielded this addictive feeling of complete security.
And then, when the kid is just a week old, you have to take him to his check-up. In the sicko-filthsville-nastoid HOSPITAL! This is the atmosphere breaking equivalent of your mom ruthlessly ripping away your roof blanket, telling you your playmate's parents are waiting outside and it's time for you to clean the toilets.
When I rule the world, the president of the Oregon Health Sciences University will come out to meet me at each of Toby's appointments with a germ-proof bubble to escort the precious babe to the exam room. No, wait; the doc will come here. And! he'll stay to babysit for a couple hours because my child impresses him so. And!! when I come home Toby will walk to the door and say, "I love you, Mama" before showing me how much he loves to vacuum. Those vets- I mean pediatricians- really know how to bring out the best in an infant.