A Day at Work

Yesterday I picked up a newborn from the hospital. As they wheeled me out in a wheelchair, with the baby in my arms (hospital policy), passersby gave us tender looks and said, "Congratulations!"

Once outside, I got up from the wheelchair and thanked the volunteer who was pushing it. "Sit back down, I'll wait with you," she said. Oh yeah, she thinks someone is picking me up. I couldn't tell her I wasn't the one who gave birth, etc, for confidentiality. "I can walk to the car," I said, feeling funny as I walked off. (My entire interaction with her was funny. Earlier she had said, "Wow you look good" and all I could say was "Thanks!")

As I crossed the road, the sun hit the little boy's face and his whole face went into a big squint. At the car, I strapped his tiny body into the car seat, and then off we went. During the drive, he was completely silent. I couldn't see him because he was in the backseat, in a rear-facing car seat. He is premature and going through drug withdrawals, so I was suddenly worried about the silence. Is he suffocating back there? But I knew I had strapped him in correctly. At work, they train us for every little thing. We even had a four-hour training on car seat installment. So I relaxed in my seat, feeling confident. I was fully equipped and prepared to do this small, yet delicate task. And with great pleasure, I did it.