Introductions
It was a month away from the longest day of the year, so the light cast a glowing blue hue in the small private hospital room, indicating a deceptively early hour. Staring up at the ceiling, reaching smacks in search of her glasses followed by the crash of something plastic hitting the floor and skidding toward the wall. “Wonderful, I’ll have to get that later.” She let her mind drift briefly. More reaching past empty Jell-O containers and cracker packages, and was met with her target, “Perfect, here they are.” Placing the dark frames on her face, she gingerly sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, letting them dangle for just a moment. She did not linger on her newfound ability to sit-up with little effort. It was time to see her daughter.
She adjusted her eyes to the blaring light of the corridor, quiet at such an early hour. Then there was the wall of windows to the nursery, reminiscent of every movie scene ever created, but at the moment it was only her. She tapped at the door, and was met with the stern face of a third-shift nurse.
“Can I see her?”
“Of course, she’s this way.”
Gazing at the Tupperware container, her little bundle sound asleep, “Can I take her?”
“Yes, you can take your daughter.”
Consumed by her little girl the new mother thanked the nurse; not noticing the several failed attempts to maneuver the wheeled base through the nursery door. The effort absurd, clearly faulty wheels exhibiting a preference for the far wall of the hallway, but she eventually managed. There is nothing graceful about new Mommyhood, she mused.
Lifting the tiny being, she awkwardly walked to the corner chair; it was quickly starting to lighten outside, so she remained in the natural light of the morning. With off key humming she stared, and stared, and —
“Oh my, that sounded…wet.” With her infant stirring and on the verge of panic, her eyes darted around the room looking for someone to tell her what to do, but she was alone. She clumsily carried her daughter to her bin, unfolding the tight blanket binding. Apprehensively, she pulled the diaper tabs, and, “Good, God, what is that?” It suddenly occurring to her as her daughter laid there with some type of black sludge all over her entire nether region; she was totally unprepared. With one hand awkwardly holding the tiny legs of her now crying daughter, she unsuccessfully hunted for the wipes.
“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” was all she muttered until she retrieved the package in the back corner of the top shelf within the base, “Christ, it’s always in the back.” Delicate, fearful, halted strokes proved ineffective amidst the wailing, “What is this stuff? It doesn’t come off!” Rubbing a bit harder, she was serenaded by more pronounced screaming. Making progress with the bleary eyes of a woman who must be permanently traumatizing her daughter, she considered for a moment whether to leave her daughter dirty to keep her from her exhortations of misery.
With the blur of time she somehow managed to clean the small private area, and attach a new diaper, seemingly, correctly in place. She returned to her off key humming in the corner chair, the shakiness in her voice gradually lessening. Looking up she saw her husband in the doorway.
“What have you been doing this morning?”
“Nothing much,” was her only response.
