I thought I knew a lot about babies. But I think the majority of my knowledge is collected from the mélange of late 80’s movies like Three Men and a Baby and Look Who’s Talking. What information I didn’t gather from John Travolta and Kirstie Alley I figured I would innately know being a woman.
But when the lady in charge of the Watoto Babies Home pointed to a door that two babies were behind and that I was solely responsible for their care over the next eight hours, I panicked. Of course, I gave a confident nod and shrugged, “Oh yeah, babies, no problem.” I strutted down the hall to the door nonchalantly like I do this kind of a thing on a daily basis. They should have Kelli do this, since she has more experience. I wonder if it’s too late to switch. I stepped into the room and closed the door quietly. No crying yet, so far so good. They were in their cribs- the prematures. These babies are not supposed to be in this world yet.
I leaned over and stared at them in their double-bunked cribs where a mosquito net was placed loosely over to protect them. “Keeeep sleeeeeping”, I said in a really slow voice, hoping I could maybe hypnotize them into not causing me trouble. I checked out the hanging charts next to them, I needed to record when I fed, bathed, changed, and weighed them. Simple. I turned around taking in the rest of the room. Now, I just need to kill time. Maybe I’ll just snoop through all the cabinets and drawers. Right as I had the great idea to see if I could turn two diapers into cool earmuffs, the first baby began to stir. I checked the chart again, this is a boy and his name is Joel. Okay, so first I need to bathe him. I hesitated when picking him up. This thing is so tiny. My two hands did a dance around his body, as I decided the best way to pick him up without his head popping off. I scooped him up and moved him to a table to undress him. My movements were slow and meticulous, like I was diffusing a bomb.
But when the lady in charge of the Watoto Babies Home pointed to a door that two babies were behind and that I was solely responsible for their care over the next eight hours, I panicked. Of course, I gave a confident nod and shrugged, “Oh yeah, babies, no problem.” I strutted down the hall to the door nonchalantly like I do this kind of a thing on a daily basis. They should have Kelli do this, since she has more experience. I wonder if it’s too late to switch. I stepped into the room and closed the door quietly. No crying yet, so far so good. They were in their cribs- the prematures. These babies are not supposed to be in this world yet.
I leaned over and stared at them in their double-bunked cribs where a mosquito net was placed loosely over to protect them. “Keeeep sleeeeeping”, I said in a really slow voice, hoping I could maybe hypnotize them into not causing me trouble. I checked out the hanging charts next to them, I needed to record when I fed, bathed, changed, and weighed them. Simple. I turned around taking in the rest of the room. Now, I just need to kill time. Maybe I’ll just snoop through all the cabinets and drawers. Right as I had the great idea to see if I could turn two diapers into cool earmuffs, the first baby began to stir. I checked the chart again, this is a boy and his name is Joel. Okay, so first I need to bathe him. I hesitated when picking him up. This thing is so tiny. My two hands did a dance around his body, as I decided the best way to pick him up without his head popping off. I scooped him up and moved him to a table to undress him. My movements were slow and meticulous, like I was diffusing a bomb.
I renamed Joel, William. I hope he was fine with that, because that is what I accidentally kept calling him. I think I passed the test of bathing and changing with flying colors. However, making the bottle was like assembling a rocket. In the middle of calculating the appropriate mixture of formula and medicine, the other one woke up. Her name was Esther. I told her to wait in line, until I was done with William. She refused and tested her lung power on me by releasing a loud wail. William answered her call and joined in the chorus of crying. I now had two of smallest creatures in the world in my arms, bellowing. I picked up one bottle with my elbow and clutched the other with my chin.
Thank god for rocking chairs. They are the best invention in the world next to nail polish remover. I balanced William on my lap and Esther in my arms. I rocked them slowly as I tried to tell them a story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Funny, try as I might, I couldn’t remember any of the classic children’s stories. So in my rendition, the three bears were drag queens and there might have been a car chase and some aliens. Esther and William languidly listened and were peaceful for about fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes I was in love with them. That is, until the whirlwind of changing and feeding began again. Our cycles of eating and sleeping are daily and newborns are every thirty minutes.
I was elated when my replacement finally arrived, because that was the most tiring 8 hours of my life. As I was heading out, I told the nurse that Esther needed a diaper change. I handed Esther over, as her diaper dam collapsed and released a river of pee down my shirt and leg. I think that was her way of saying that she would miss me.
Thank god for rocking chairs. They are the best invention in the world next to nail polish remover. I balanced William on my lap and Esther in my arms. I rocked them slowly as I tried to tell them a story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Funny, try as I might, I couldn’t remember any of the classic children’s stories. So in my rendition, the three bears were drag queens and there might have been a car chase and some aliens. Esther and William languidly listened and were peaceful for about fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes I was in love with them. That is, until the whirlwind of changing and feeding began again. Our cycles of eating and sleeping are daily and newborns are every thirty minutes.
I was elated when my replacement finally arrived, because that was the most tiring 8 hours of my life. As I was heading out, I told the nurse that Esther needed a diaper change. I handed Esther over, as her diaper dam collapsed and released a river of pee down my shirt and leg. I think that was her way of saying that she would miss me.
I had to include this picture of Doctor Moses. If I was 35 and financially stable, I would adopt this kid in a heartbeat. I think they call him the Doctor because of this enormously large brain. He has Tuberculosis and looks a bit like a little frog. He loves music and playing drums. He is also a bit of an intellectual and an elitist. If the other one year olds are drinking from bottles, he will have his milk in a cup. If the others are eating mush, he insists on a banana. I appreciate his refined tastes. Other children would annoyingly pull off the hat or sunglasses I place on them, not Doctor Moses, he takes to sunglasses like a battered wife.
No comments:
Post a Comment