Home from the Hospital

Baby J. and I in the Hospital

I started thinking about our trip home from the hospital, after Baby J. was born. It was probably the second most terrifying experience I've had as a driver (the first would be a time I had to take Baby J. in for a check up, and we were experiencing heavy snow and high winds). It was also a crazy experience. My wife and I both realized that Baby J. was our baby, but to think the hospital was actually going to let us drive away with her? The idea was absurd. How could medical professionals actually entrust us with the safety of a baby? What were they thinking? Sure, we'd read all the books. We'd studied up on everything there is to read about babies. We received all the advice we could have ever wanted from a hundred different people. But that's hardly preparation for having a baby. Shouldn't I have needed a medical license of some kind? At least a PhD., right?

And yet, there we were, driving away from the hospital at a brisk 15mph (I didn't want to go too fast until we were in a less trafficked area), my heart racing like I'd just run a 5k, glancing every 1.3 seconds into the rear view mirror to make absolutely, positively sure that my 3 day old daughter was still in the car. She was there all right, snug in a giant pink winter coat, sleeping soundly, while my wife sat next to her, probably sharing a lot of my thoughts.

Boober in Her Pink Coat

I know everyone goes through this, but that was the day I stopped feeling like I was 12 years old. Ever since my twelfth birthday, I haven't really felt like I've grown up. Sure, I kept getting bigger. I moved out of my mom's home. I got married. Started a career. But none of that ever felt real. It was always like I was still a little kid playing house with my cousin at my grandmother's, like all the cooking, and going to work every day, and paying the bills was make believe, as if at any moment, I could close my eyes and then upon reopening them, I'd be back home with my backpack and a bag lunch about to stand outside and wait for the school bus to come.

But that all changed when Baby J. arrived. Watching her delivery, holding her for the first time, falling instantly in love with the most precious thing I'd ever seen, like the grinch, my heart suddenly grew three sizes that day, until I was barely able to contain it within my chest. She was my boober, a tiny little, 7lb. 7oz really wonderful responsibility that made me realize I could never go back home again, and more so, it made me realize I'd never want to, because for as long as I live, Baby J. is my home.

D.