I have seen one element of my future with Elijah and Grace, and it is fitting for the Halloween season: hair-raising and spine-chilling.
Crystal and I were trying to get out of the hospital a little early. I had been holding Grace for an hour or so, and put her back in the Isolette, feeling proud and fatherly. Crystal had struggled for ten minutes putting a fresh diaper and shirt on Elijah, and he was looking like a million bucks as she put on the finishing touches.
Then Grace started fussing, bucking like a colt (look- that is not an exaggeration; trust me), and the pacifier just wasn’t going to do it. I did a diaper change-- instantly recognizable as amateur-- and stroked Grace’s head and legs, calling Crystal for some assistance. As she and a very helpful nurse joined in, I turned to Elijah, who had spit up some pretty-looking… well, stuff, all over the new shirt that was Crystal’s handiwork. He also began to sound off about his discomfort. Because of Grace’s fussing and bucking her monitors began beeping and buzzing.
So there we were, two Division III new parents and a highly skilled nurse with 15+ years of experience, juggling The Twins. In the aftermath, I could only imagine what the future would look like after subtracting the nurse, because we will not have a nurse at our side at 50 Orchard Commons Road. The thought was bracing. I then imagined the future after subtracting the nurse and Crystal, because Crystal will be going back to work in the blink of a newborn’s eye. I immediately began looking for the nearest accessible ledge and/or the nurses’ sedative stash.
