I never go to the hospital to visit newborns and their family. I think of it as private time, a place for family to come and celebrate and tell the new mom she did a good job. The only time I would have liked to gone to the hospital is when my nieces were born – it all happened so fast and with Big Bro being out of town and my school/work, I would have never made it in time. I really would have liked to told my sister in law she did a good job. Because she did.
But the hubs wanted to go, he had to go and visit our friends in the hospital after they had their baby. I went along but said we had to take food. I didn’t want to impose and Chips Ahoy would probably be more welcomed than us. So after stopping for snacks and cigars, we made our way to the hospital.
Hospitals are weird to me. When I walk in the door, the air just feels heavier. I feel like I’m wrapped in an unfamiliar atmosphere and my breathing gets slower. Everything is slower. My steps, the opening doors, the elevator… maybe because I’ve only visited sick loved ones and carry my worries in with me. Visiting new parents and a new baby put a whole spin on the experience.
She had a head full of hair. Little eyes that would not budge open. And a death grip for a gal who was only a day old. Her mom looked her over and fixed her outfit. Her dad kissed her forehead and scooped her in his arms. Of course, this was all after I held her for 30 minutes and combed over every inch of her exposed body. She was perfect.
I so look forward to watching all these little babies my friends bring into world grow into little people.
I plan on teaching them how to pick their noses.