Sometime the middle of this afternoon, the Show Tunes Correspondent and his partner will become fathers. I’ve watched them go through the process, the waiting and stress and one major disappointment, and I’m delighted it’s about to work out for them.
The best week of my life, without doubt, was the first week The Sole Heir came to live with her mother and me Her birth was a long (34 hour) process that, while I’ll never forget any of it, was so physically and emotionally draining all I could do when I got home was throw up and fall facedown into bed. I awoke with one foot on the floor, and my coat on the stairs. (I know I got off easy, but her mother got drugs.)
Ah, but the week after she first came home. I took a little time off work and we shut out the rest of the world. All we did was tend to the baby: fed her, changed her, held her, rocked her, put her to sleep, established a routine, got the dogs used to her, played with her in the limited ways you can with an infant, seeing what she liked. All the things that create the initial bonds both parents and child will work with for the rest of their lives.
And it was bliss.
Today starts their week. I hope they enjoy it as much as I did, because it will never come again. I know each child is a treasure in their own right, and the experience repeats every time a new baby gets brought home. I also know there’s nothing quite like doing something for the first time, how many of the warm feelings from a re-do stem from those memories.
I’m a little jealous.