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After being in the delivery room for most of the day yesterday, we were lucky enough to get our own room to stay in overnight, including a double bed, so I didn’t have to go home or sleep awkwardly on a chair in a waiting room. All of us were powerfully tired, but we didn’t get to go to bed straight away. A dirty nappy needed changing and I was the only one able to do it, so although I had practised this, I was thrown in at the deep end. Dirty nappies were the thing that probably more than anything else made me wary of fatherhood when I was a younger man. Wouldn’t it be too horrific and disgusting to have to clean up someone’s poo? But that’s something that you do every day, if only for yourself and when it came down to it my only fears were that I wouldn’t be able to do it or that I’d put the nappy on wrong. But it’s not rocket science. It’s about wiping away all the stuff that isn’t skin coloured. At this stage poo is black and like Marmite. Not in that you either love it or you hate it, (you’d have to be a bit weird to love it and resigned ambivalence is probably most people’s reaction) but in appearance. Apparently next it will become Dijon mustard before becoming the brown Crap Classic that we’re all more familiar with.
So I was trepidatious, but knew that my daughter’s Marmity bum needed to be cleaned and that only I was available to do it, so I got on with it. And actually rather enjoyed it . Cleaning a baby’s bum is just like one of those dull repetitive iPhone games that people love (and which make millions of pounds for their inventors). Can you wipe away all the poo and put on a new nappy before the screen (baby’s nether regions) again fill up with poo and you have to do the same thing again? If you don’t get all the poo then you lose the game. I got all the poo and won so I could go on to the next level. If I do it enough the poo changes colour. And sometimes there are bonus wee levels.
It’s probably bad that I see most of the world as a video game, but I am pretty sure that it really is and we’re all just characters in it. So it probably pleases the teenager who is controlling me that I like video games as much as he or she or it does.
We got a bit of sleep at last, though I managed more than my wife, due to the biological fortune of inability to lactate. Then I had the day to get to know my daughter better and work out what things I have to do to keep her healthy and alive. It’s crazy that anyone is allowed to be a parent. There was more paperwork and questions and interrogation involved with adopting Liono and Smithers than in getting to take Phoebe home. You’d think you’d have to take some kind of test, but they just trust that if you’re able to work out how to have a baby that you’re going to be capable of looking after it. The problem with this is that I am not entirely sure how we had the baby.
I had the most joyous hour where Phoebe rested in my lap and I got to enjoy holding her and looking at her, as tiny as she’ll ever be and realising that nothing would be as good as this feeling. I felt it was time to tell the world that they could give up trying to make babies, as we had just created the perfect one. The quest was other. Eventually though she started crying and I realised that there was still some way to go. Keep experimenting folks. One day we’ll perfect this.
I tried to cheer her up by singing a song that quite heavily plagiarised Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, in that it had the same tune and many of the same words, but went “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Phoebe, How I wonder what you’ll be”. I then improvised a rhyming couplet suggesting different jobs, before repeating Twinkle Twinkle Little Phoebe, I wonder what you’ll be, we’ll have to wait and see”. It was much better than the original and I brought out my A game in suggesting amusing jobs. If only she had understood language or music or even her own name she’d have loved this but then I realised I could stop coming up with funny improvisations and just say “Bu bu bu bu buub” instead. but in three years time she’s going to love this and think I am the greatest dad ever. In fact I am going to try and convince her that I made the song up and my words are the real ones and her mind is going to be blown when she finds out about the other version. And I will tell her that Mozart nicked it off me.
I am going to tell her loads of lies about all kinds of stuff, just to see her face when she finds out the truth. Why should I be any different than every other parent ever?
Once again the NHS have been incredible and all the staff at the hospital were kind, patient and helpful. I almost forgive them for letting Sliding Doors film in their lift now.
But finally the time came for us to take our daughter home, without any grown-ups to come and assist us if we couldn’t work out what we were meant to do. We dressed Phoebe up in a reindeer outfit, because whilst they are this little you’re allowed to treat them like tiny idiots that you can make look delightfully stupid in whatever manner you wish. The car seat continued to baffle me. One of the midwives pointing out that we had failed to release the bit that the internal bet clips into so the straps were stretched way too far. NOTHING IN THE INSTRUCTIONS EXPLAINED THIS. I have got absolutely nothing right so far. We strapped the seat into the taxi and I am pretty sure i did that wrong too, but it seemed secure enough.
We brought our daughter home. We thought she might freak out the cats, but whilst they sniffed around the car seat, they didn’t seem to spot the tiny sleeping human inside it. I think they sensed something had changed and I think they might resent the baby for a while. but I hope they will be great friends. Phoebe slept through the first meeting, so didn’t get to see these two furry faces failing to check her out.
And then there was the nervous second night to come, freaking out at every sound our baby made and then freaking out even more when she wasn’t making any sound and having to check she was still breathing. It’s an awful responsibility. You really should have to pass a test. Why are we being trusted with this?
