The birth of a baby is a life-affirming, heart-warming thing
that reminds us of the beauty of our existence. Changing diapers
kind of changes that, but let’s not ruin the mood.
The birth of a baby is a life-affirming, heart-warming thing that reminds us of the beauty of our existence. Changing diapers kind of changes that, but let’s not ruin the mood.
For those of us who are already parents, seeing the joy on the face of a new mother brings us back to those first moments of gazing with awe at the little person that we helped bring into the world.
This week my sister gave birth to her first child, a girl named Kendra. Her arrival has been anticipated by the whole family – particularly my mother, who has been buzzing around like a bee anticipating the arrival of her baby girl’s first baby girl.
Walking through the long halls of Good Samaritan Hospital in San Jose, I was reminded of the nervous excitement I felt when my sons were born.
What would they look like? Would they be healthy? Would they have all of their appendages? Would they do some of the dumb things I did during high school? My mind was a blur, and it wouldn’t stop.
What if I couldn’t figure out how to change a diaper? What do I do when they cry? How soon can they play catch? Why is my mom moving around the hospital like a hummingbird?
For the birth of Kendra, I had it easy. I just packed the kids in the truck and headed north after school. We got to the hospital, greeted other family members in the waiting room, and awaited our turn to view the baby, which was already born, cleaned up, and wrapped like a burrito in a warm blanket.
Everyone was happy and healthy, although my sister was a little zombie-like as the anesthesia was wearing off. Her husband was attentive (see, we have a soft side) and my mom was still buzzing around, insisting on escorting everyone to the recovery room so she could spend bonus time with her granddaughter.
To be honest, most babies look pretty much the same, though relatives immediately look for traits passed on by genetics.
I couldn’t find anything immediately indicative of a trait the baby may share with her favorite uncle (me), but again, she was a burrito with a knit cap on, so I only saw about four inches of her.
People who see a baby are sort of compelled to say, “Oh, what a beautiful baby!” even if it isn’t true. Luckily, Kendra is deserving of the praise. Holding her made me wonder how my sons were ever small enough for me to hold with one arm. My oldest is eye-to-eye with his grandma (when she stands still) and the youngest comes home quoting the anatomically-correct body part references that he is learning in family life class.
It’s weird seeing my sister as a mom, although she’ll be a wonderful one. I was nearly 3 when she was born, so she has always been my little sister – even when she grew up and got married. I was her after-school babysitter and her companion on cross-country flights to visit our grandparents. I made her laugh and I knew exactly how to make her mad – still do.
She has shared the joy I have felt as a parent and now she gets to experience that and a million other emotions as she raises her daughter. My advice? Enjoy every moment, because those little burritos grow up to be super burritos faster than you can say Super Taqueria.
Uncle Adam Breen teaches journalism and yearbook at San Benito High School. He is former editor of The Free Lance.
