BOPPYS TO THE LEFT OF ME & NIPPLE CREAM TO THE RIGHT
"By proxy."
By proxy means "in absence."
Two days ago, I was a daddy-in-the-making and this day, I was a full-blown-baby-holding father.
Up until the morning, I reeked. Anyone who has waited in a hospital for days on end knows that smell, that feeling of unwashness (that should be a word) and general yuck vibe you give off. It was this feeling that made my shower in the last two days pure magic.
And as I got dressed for the baby shower, I thought about just that - a baby shower. We had one of those now, not the shower but the baby. Lizeth was resting. Orlando was wriggling about in the NICU with a ton of wires and sensors keeping eye on his well-being.
I focused on the job at hand - going to the baby shower and not as a grinning dad who just carried packages to the car. I was going to serve in Lizeth's place, by proxy.
The hall was beautiful. The weather, albeit freezing and snowing, had a calming effect to the last few days. I am sure I would have been even more moved by the event and the baby decorations and everything else, but I was exhausted.
And with my wife still recovering in her hospital bed and our son wired up in the NICU, I was hard pressed to find anything else on my mind.
The shower filled up with guests. The snowfall had not kept anyone away.
It was cold and as I helped bring in food and items and set up, I was peppered with questions.
"How is she?"
"I can't believe he's breathing on his own?"
"How is the baby?"
"How much did he weigh?"
"I can't believe he's breathing on his own?"
"How is she?"
"Tell me everything!"
"I can't believe he's breathing on his own." By about the fifth time of hearing this, I was getting worn out and raw.
I did tell someone that if they "went to the University of Chicago, went to the NICU, there's this little brown boy - looks like his mother, has my last name and BOOM, breathing on his own." It was cold outside but I was getting hot.
I announced to everyone (in-between the kajillion phone calls about where the hall was and that the day on the invitation was wrong but the date wasn't, and how was Lizeth and the baby, were we still having it, where to park, and was Orlando breathing on his own) that this would be a very abbreviated baby shower - because the baby was here! I was standing in for Lizeth and that alone had deflated the event.
We could not play “how pregnant” with the sheets of toilet paper. I was tired and anyone approaching my growling belly with toilet paper would have "got it."
We could not play games about the gender because we already knew it was a boy and even if we did not know prior to, I saw him yesterday and he had a penis. One I was terrified to be close to while I sawed at the umbilical cord.
We ate. We did a raffle.
And I told aloud the tale of the last few days and I answered that yes, he was breathing on his own.
So, I was a bad proxy. The closest I came to being a pregnant mom were the levels of grumpiness, hunger and exhaustion I was reaching.
Next, we opened gifts. And more gifts and more gifts. I was blown away by the level of kindness and offering that people had sent to welcome our newest family member into the world. However, baby showers really need the mom there. Every other gift I opened was either for the baby or for the mother’s biological needs (nipple cream, tea for milk production and more.) Thank God for my sister-in-law who wrote down who brought what and thank God for my friends and others who helped put decorations up and take them down.
###
It was later that day, early evening.
After several cars followed me home and several people helped me take up gifts, I crashed on the couch - it may have been the floor. And whatever unforgiving surface was underneath me had never felt so good.
I was tired and I thought how drained Lizeth must be. I was glad that the staff tending to her were attentive and, most of all, kind.
I was fried out and I thought how tested and weary little Orlando must be. I was thankful that the NICU personnel had taken to him almost as much as we had. I could tell that boy would never want for friends or attention.
I'm sure I was drifting off to sleep, at the ridiculously late hour of 6pm. LOL! This was fatherhood I supposed. And in my blurring vision I thought "he was breathing on his own" and stared at the pile of gifts around me - Boppys to the left of me, nipple cream to the right.