A Good Mood After A Long Day
Well, I am home again. Or at least at the house that I will call home for a little while. There are a lot of emotions going through me right now, and the only thing I can say with certainty is that this sucks. The emotion part that is.
I worked all day, gladly accepting the congratulations of my co-workers, and answering their questions about Emily, my wife, and myself while doing my best to still do my job. The whole time I missed Emily. In fact, I spent a considerable amount of time sending messages to my sister complaining that while so many people have taken pictures, I don't have any of them. I am not certain any of them have even been developed. Initially I deflected the jokes from the two ladies one of whom said I was an atypical father for not having pictures, and the other one that went far enough to say that I was a bad father for the same reason. I told them I was too busy enjoying my time with Emily to consider sharing her with them.
Unfortunately, their comments hit home. Not that I believe that I am really a bad father (I seem to have done it succesfully after all), nor would I argue that I am typical. Face it, I am not typical, the world has to deal with that. The comments hit home for a different reason. I would love to be able to show her off instead of just describing her. More importantly, I would love to have been able to stare at her all day while I sat at my desk. Unfortunately I only had my memory screens, which were functioning, but still were not as good as they could have been.
Eventually, after an eternity, I was on my way to the hospital. In no time I was flashing my little identity bracelet and headed up to the room. There I found my wife, but no baby. While my heart sunk for a moment, my wife was good enough to explain that the nurse had taken her for a walk around the floor to give her a moment's break. On cue, the nurse came right in, with my baby girl. I was even more impressed when, despite the fact that she came back to the room she left, and my wife was still there, she compared my bracelet to my daughter's before leaving her with me.
Emily was sleeping, as was Martha. I kept watch over the two. I wouldn't have impressed my Air Force mentors, having dozed off a couple of times myself, but every time that little girl squeaked or turned in her sleep, I was awake and watching her. When the nurse came in a bit later, she woke me up too. She seemed slightly alarmed that I appeared between her and the crib, (as was I) but she identified herself and showed her badge with a smile. Apparently she is familiar with catching dads asleep at the helm.
Unfortunately, the rest of the evening taught me a painful lesson. I am useless to this baby. At least by her side where I want to be. The only things I do for her are work and argue with the power company to keep the lights on. By her side I am no use at all. Not to her. Only to her mother when I hold her for a couple of minutes at a time to give Martha a rest. When she screams I can't do anything. I distract her for a minute or two, but she is already quick to glance, register, and go back to her angry little state. She sleeps or she eats. I can't feed her. All I can do is watch when she sleeps. Today she wanted to spend all of her time that she wasn't feeding sucking on something. She learned a new trick and that at least keeps her happy. When it is her mother's finger. Or mine.
This is supposed to be the part where I can help. This is what I had gotten myself all worked up for. Now that she is out, I am supposed to play a part. I am supposed to help. I am supposed to be useful. I'm not.
I spent all of this time preparing for all of the things I would teach her. I can't. She doesn't even understand that I am talking to her. Hell, she doesn't even understand that she has hands yet. I can hold her while she is asleep. She is beautiful when she is sleeping, and I lover her to pieces, but there is so much more that I want to do for her. I can't. When she awakes, and she is upset, I can't offer her anything but her mother.
The most I accomplished was getting her to quiet down for two minutes by dancing with her, ball room style around the room. Watching the world spin kept her amused for a moment, but it passed. Another time, for about the same span, she quieted down to listen to my heart beat. I fell in love with her all over again as I watched her, amazed. I explained that she had helped build that heart beat. That if she listened, she would hear a loud thump, then a much quieter one. The louder one was the beating that started when I met her mother. The softer one was echoing her much smaller heart and began when she was born. Wasted words. Wasted sentiment. She doesn't know what I said, or how I feel. I would say it again. I will waste many such words on her, but they don't do anything for her. Neither do I.
I know that time will pass. She will grow. Eventually she will understand who I am. She will understand what I am saying and how I feel, but Lady, this is so hard. Right now I am home alone, and she is with her mother and my mother. Both of them have something to offer her. Something I don't. It pains me to be away, but being there is only slightly better.
When she cries, her little jaw trembles in such a heartbreaking way, and the small part that I play is to hold her while she cries. To watch this and listen to my heart tear apart. If she cries, if she is upset, I am supposed to be able to do something about it. I just wish there was a connection. I wish she could understand that if she got the message to me that tearing the hospital apart brick by brick would make her happy I would do it. She doesn't understand though. She doesn't know how I can be of use to her. I don't know if I can hold out until she does.
I was planning on going out briefly tonight. Celebrating with a couple of the folks at the local bar that I have been known to hang out with. To bathe in their congratulations for a moment and celebrate this momentous gift in my life. I am not there though. The "local" bar is local to my home, not this house. The friend that I was supposed to go with is undoubtedly still asleep. A good thing for him too, since he got in late this afternoon and was going to sleep at around 7pm.
It is probably just as well that I am not there. While it is possible that the presence of excited friends in a rowdy atmosphere would have raised my spirits, it is equally likely that I would have just sunk into a more depressed state. Can't lower the morale at my own party, can I?
So instead, I pick the worst of both worlds. I am far away from Emily, watching Independance Day and drinking alone. I'll tell you how it works out. Sorry the normal enthusiasm is gone, but that's life, or something close to it.
I worked all day, gladly accepting the congratulations of my co-workers, and answering their questions about Emily, my wife, and myself while doing my best to still do my job. The whole time I missed Emily. In fact, I spent a considerable amount of time sending messages to my sister complaining that while so many people have taken pictures, I don't have any of them. I am not certain any of them have even been developed. Initially I deflected the jokes from the two ladies one of whom said I was an atypical father for not having pictures, and the other one that went far enough to say that I was a bad father for the same reason. I told them I was too busy enjoying my time with Emily to consider sharing her with them.
Unfortunately, their comments hit home. Not that I believe that I am really a bad father (I seem to have done it succesfully after all), nor would I argue that I am typical. Face it, I am not typical, the world has to deal with that. The comments hit home for a different reason. I would love to be able to show her off instead of just describing her. More importantly, I would love to have been able to stare at her all day while I sat at my desk. Unfortunately I only had my memory screens, which were functioning, but still were not as good as they could have been.
Eventually, after an eternity, I was on my way to the hospital. In no time I was flashing my little identity bracelet and headed up to the room. There I found my wife, but no baby. While my heart sunk for a moment, my wife was good enough to explain that the nurse had taken her for a walk around the floor to give her a moment's break. On cue, the nurse came right in, with my baby girl. I was even more impressed when, despite the fact that she came back to the room she left, and my wife was still there, she compared my bracelet to my daughter's before leaving her with me.
Emily was sleeping, as was Martha. I kept watch over the two. I wouldn't have impressed my Air Force mentors, having dozed off a couple of times myself, but every time that little girl squeaked or turned in her sleep, I was awake and watching her. When the nurse came in a bit later, she woke me up too. She seemed slightly alarmed that I appeared between her and the crib, (as was I) but she identified herself and showed her badge with a smile. Apparently she is familiar with catching dads asleep at the helm.
Unfortunately, the rest of the evening taught me a painful lesson. I am useless to this baby. At least by her side where I want to be. The only things I do for her are work and argue with the power company to keep the lights on. By her side I am no use at all. Not to her. Only to her mother when I hold her for a couple of minutes at a time to give Martha a rest. When she screams I can't do anything. I distract her for a minute or two, but she is already quick to glance, register, and go back to her angry little state. She sleeps or she eats. I can't feed her. All I can do is watch when she sleeps. Today she wanted to spend all of her time that she wasn't feeding sucking on something. She learned a new trick and that at least keeps her happy. When it is her mother's finger. Or mine.
This is supposed to be the part where I can help. This is what I had gotten myself all worked up for. Now that she is out, I am supposed to play a part. I am supposed to help. I am supposed to be useful. I'm not.
I spent all of this time preparing for all of the things I would teach her. I can't. She doesn't even understand that I am talking to her. Hell, she doesn't even understand that she has hands yet. I can hold her while she is asleep. She is beautiful when she is sleeping, and I lover her to pieces, but there is so much more that I want to do for her. I can't. When she awakes, and she is upset, I can't offer her anything but her mother.
The most I accomplished was getting her to quiet down for two minutes by dancing with her, ball room style around the room. Watching the world spin kept her amused for a moment, but it passed. Another time, for about the same span, she quieted down to listen to my heart beat. I fell in love with her all over again as I watched her, amazed. I explained that she had helped build that heart beat. That if she listened, she would hear a loud thump, then a much quieter one. The louder one was the beating that started when I met her mother. The softer one was echoing her much smaller heart and began when she was born. Wasted words. Wasted sentiment. She doesn't know what I said, or how I feel. I would say it again. I will waste many such words on her, but they don't do anything for her. Neither do I.
I know that time will pass. She will grow. Eventually she will understand who I am. She will understand what I am saying and how I feel, but Lady, this is so hard. Right now I am home alone, and she is with her mother and my mother. Both of them have something to offer her. Something I don't. It pains me to be away, but being there is only slightly better.
When she cries, her little jaw trembles in such a heartbreaking way, and the small part that I play is to hold her while she cries. To watch this and listen to my heart tear apart. If she cries, if she is upset, I am supposed to be able to do something about it. I just wish there was a connection. I wish she could understand that if she got the message to me that tearing the hospital apart brick by brick would make her happy I would do it. She doesn't understand though. She doesn't know how I can be of use to her. I don't know if I can hold out until she does.
I was planning on going out briefly tonight. Celebrating with a couple of the folks at the local bar that I have been known to hang out with. To bathe in their congratulations for a moment and celebrate this momentous gift in my life. I am not there though. The "local" bar is local to my home, not this house. The friend that I was supposed to go with is undoubtedly still asleep. A good thing for him too, since he got in late this afternoon and was going to sleep at around 7pm.
It is probably just as well that I am not there. While it is possible that the presence of excited friends in a rowdy atmosphere would have raised my spirits, it is equally likely that I would have just sunk into a more depressed state. Can't lower the morale at my own party, can I?
So instead, I pick the worst of both worlds. I am far away from Emily, watching Independance Day and drinking alone. I'll tell you how it works out. Sorry the normal enthusiasm is gone, but that's life, or something close to it.
posted by Wanderer at 11:05 PM
4 Comments:
I am so happy for you! I love how you are capturing all the great moments of falling in love with a new baby -- I look forward to reading more.
I'll continue to keep you all in my prayers. Congratulations, Emily's Dad :).
I think when the baby cries you're supposed to give her a morphine enema and then, while holding her upside down, shake her violently to make sure the morphine gets ariund in there.
by the way, I was asleep but I would have gotten up if the phone had ringed.
that little angel understands much more than you know, not in words yet, though those words are important, but at the heart of things, she understands...
everything is new, and a bit frightening to her, she needs your strong finger to grasp as she begins to realize the imensity of the world she has come into. Blessings on you and Martha, even now you are guiding Emily in a great adventure...and I hope you never let that mc person babysit!
Don't do it.
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