Feeding a Baby

An alarm clock?  Who needs an alarm clock when there’s a baby in the room down the hall.  I pull the pillow over my head and hope that it’s just a dream.  But no, she seems to really mean it, as if she is screaming, “Feed me NOW!”

I drag my weary body out of bed, prepare a bottle of formula, and then hurry in to pick her up and soothe her before she wakes up the rest of the family.

They Call Me Mama

The early morning sun has not yet risen.  I stand uncertainly in the dimly lit living room looking out over the backyard, when suddenly a small dark hand reaches up to mine and I hear a little voice calling me “Mama.”  I had just met the little girl for the first time last night, and I can’t quite recall her name.  

Could this moment possibly be any more strange?

Holding a Princess

We sit patiently in the hospital’s surgical waiting room, anticipating your turn in the operating room.   While an early morning talk-show host drones on the television overhead, I quietly look around at the other pediatric patients whose experiences briefly intercept yours.  The littlest ones are blissfully unaware of what awaits them in the next few hours, while the older ones bravely clutch a stuffed animal or toy, some of them whimpering and squirming in their parents’ laps.  The adults in the room all look bleary-eyed, worried, and even slightly impatient.  There are hundreds of places we would rather be at 6:00 on a holiday morning.