My friend had a baby last week. I offered to bring her some food and she responded with the hospital visiting hours. I wasn’t expecting this, so I jumped at the chance to visit her 9 hour old baby.
I bought her some snacks that I would have wanted had I just pushed a baby out, and rushed over to the exact hospital, exact floor where Pickle was born.
I walked at a fast pace to the elevator and had a flash of that time back on the 18th of June (in my neon pink khakis and glitter eyes), when I breezed by a woman CLEARLY in labor, willing my body to mimic that as soon as possible.
I walked down the hall and felt stillness and heard babies practicing with their new sounds. I saw what looked like a pediatrician, wheeling a baby into a room and asking about Barbara (my midwife). I secretly hoped to bump into her.
I found the room number for my friend and opened the door with a gentle knock and there she was, holding that brand new life, the pinkest baby I have ever seen…and I welled up.
There is simply nothing like that moment when you become a mother and hold that floppy baby against your chest.
As we chatted, another new mom was wheeled in. She looked sadder then sad, and I smiled at her and said: “you did it.” As I continued to listen I figured out she had had a c-section and was in a lot of pain.
The nurses were in and out, and at one point one looked at Pickle and said: “That is NOT helping my birth control!” I couldn’t believe that a woman who interacts with these new babies AS HER JOB, was moved more by the pickle than that brand new one across the room.
Before I left I asked my friend if she needed anything, and she needed to use the restroom. I sat Pickle on the floor (there was nowhere else!–the nurse freaked out a little that she was on the floor of a hospital–mentioned mersa–whoops!), and I held that baby. At one point Pickle spilled orange juice all over the floor and I even rescued her WHILE holding that baby…2 babies–I got this!
Sometimes it is the smallest of moments that tell you where you are. And where I am, is wanting to hold a baby like that again, only, my own.