Sympathy Pain

I placed him in his car seat. That was my job. He had that stupid pink and blue cap on his head, the one that some one decided every hospital should use…and the blanket. He did have multiple reasons for the cap though. Firstly, it kept his head warm…on a day that was 90 degrees in the shade. Secondly, he had a bell jar shaped skull. His head was so big, the doctor had used a toilet plunger to pull him out. That tends to leave a round indention in your soft, newly formed, skull.

He looked so little, like this car seat was made for a giant baby, not this little guy. We went downstairs, with all the gifts we could haul. I also had pilfered as many diapers, wipes, cans of formula, and blankets as I could find in the room. Hell, my insurance had paid for them all. Down to the Pathfinder I had traded my truck for, just for this occasion.

I was wearing my “New Dad” shirt my father had bought me in the hospital gift shop. It fit me well…being the right size AND announcing to the world the warning…”stupid sperm donor approaching.”

We had to get home to met the nurse that was bringing his phototherapy straight jacket. He was slightly jaundiced. His eyes had a slight yellow tint and his skin as well. Breastfeeding and tanning bed are the normal prescription. So we had to get home and receive the tanning jacket.

We get home. The cats are…curious. He’s relatively peaceful. All seems right in this new father’s world.

Then we put the jacket of searing pain on him, and he begins to explode. It immediately sounded like we had dropped him in a vat of acid. We had been warned that he “wouldn’t like it”…but after about 30 seconds of baby torture, we stopped the treatment. He was soaking wet from sweet and urine. Welcome to your new home baby.

I hadn’t thought of that day in years. I mean, really thought about everything that happen, until Jack and I stumbled upon the topic last week.

“I almost returned you and ask for my money back.” I told him after telling him the story.

“But you didn’t.”

“Almost…but what an amazing young man I would have missed out on if I had.”

Happy birthday, fathead. I love you.