When you bring a baby home, and it's just you and the baby -- one on one -- it's terrifying. When you're baby was in intensive care for 67 days and you spent weeks staring at heart rate monitors and oxygen saturation levels, and then it's just you and the baby ...
It takes some getting used to.
I've had the luxury of working all that nervous energy out of my system. Those first few days one on one with Ellie were panic-inducing at times, but eventually I realized she had the same needs as any baby. And I've been one on one with a baby before. Piece of cake.
Today, I went back to work and Mike stayed home with Ellie. I suppose you could say it was a test run of sorts, since he'll be one on one with her all summer. I wasn't worried, because hey -- he's Super Dad, right? No problem.
And after he got mad at me for insinuating that he was a goofy sit-com Dad -- I didn't, I swear. But who brings a baby in the car without a pacifier? -- he seemed pretty confident in his abilities too. We went all day with only one "judgment call" phoned in to my office. I was impressed.
But when I got home, he admitted that my fear of being one on one was real. He felt it too. Even though I'm long recovered from that fear, it's nice to know I didn't imagine it. Or that I wasn't overreacting, as I'm prone to do. He understood that first week -- when my nerves were frazzled and my stomach churned. And it gave me some perspective on how far I've come in just three weeks as a full-time mommy.
Ellie fell asleep in the car and when we got into the house, neither of us wanted to wake her. Mike, still feeling out that flying-solo parenting deal, turned and said to me, "Is it ok to leave her in there? In the corner like that?"
"Sure," I said. "If we were still driving, she'd still be in the seat, right?"
"But..." he smiled. "Nobody puts baby in the corner."
Ha. I guess he's over that fear now too.