Every year on my birthday my dad tells the story of meeting me for the first time. He holds a pretend baby and starts with, “Then they handed me that little green bundle…” He then goes on to talk about how amazing it was and how he fell in love and blah, blah, blah.
I’ve probably rolled my eyes to that story 27 times. The reason it isn’t 28 is because the year I turned 16 he told the “little green bundle” story while handing me keys to my very own “little green jeep” and you do NOT roll your eyes when someone is handing you keys to freedom.
And now I’ll probably never roll my eyes again because now I have my own story with Otis.
When they threw him on to my chest (yes, throw) for some skin-to-skin loving Mark and I cried and oohed and ahhed and asked a million times “Is he ok?” because he was really blue. Soon after Mark took Otis to get cleaned up a little bit, weighed and measured while I got stitched up. Fun, right?
Within 10 minutes Mark and Otis were back at my side and Mark handed this still crying baby to me. When I took him in my arms I asked this little baby who had been in this world for maybe 15 minutes what was up and why was he crying. Otis immediately quit crying and looked at me like he knew exactly who I was, his face let me know that he was completely familiar with my voice.
Mark was as astonished as I was. “Oh my goodness, he knows your voice!”
I know I didn’t cry then. I was in too much shock. I’d had a baby, been stitched up in places no person should ever be stitched up, and met my child… there was way too much going on. Oh, and I was starving.
But whenever I think about that day it’s the first thing I remember and it brings me to tears every time. The look on his face when he recognized me. How that little person knew me instantly and in the middle of his own personal chaos (being born is some exhausting work) he found some kind of safety and familiarity in me. Mind boggling.
So for the rest of his life Otis will hear the story of how a “little lard covered blueberry” recognized my voice and changed my world forever.
And I will also remind him that some babies, like fictional Quinn and her fictional baby, never get to hear that voice and he should just be grateful. And to quit asking for a car. It ain’t happening.