Last week we took young Jack out to meet some friends of ours. Predictably, passing the baby around was a popular pasttime for all those present.
Except for one person. We’ll call him Joe.
Joe didn’t want to hold the baby.
Nuts, right?
It turns out that Joe had simply never held a baby before and was afraid of dropping him. I couldn’t really blame the guy. It was a fear that paralyzed me on more than one occasion when offered an infant to hold. I mean, come one… they’re so tiny and fragile. Poor Joe took some ribbing that night, but not from me.
Like Joe, I had never held a baby. I had wrangled the odd toddler or two, but never something as fragile as a baby.
I admit that there was some hesitation when it came to holding Jack for the very first time.
But it wasn’t a long hesitation. No. Once I had the boy in my arms, it was as natural a feeling as anything else. Maybe the fact that Jack was such a hefty baby at birth (10 lb, 10 oz) that helped. He was a solid kid. At 21.25 cm, holding him wasn’t much different from holding a warm, squirming football. It may seem a little cliche, but the football comparison isn’t far off. Just a little tuck into the crook of the arm, support with the inside of the forearm, stabilize with the other arm. All set.
There was a temptation to rush the nurses’ station, but it quickly passed. There would be no spiking of the ball.
Once Joe held Jack, he quickly became a pro as well. Yes, he was concerned about dropping the kid, but Jack is a sturdy fellow and I’m fairly certainly that so long as he is caught on the first bounce, there will be no permanent damage.
No, I’m not going to test it. But it feels like a correct assumption.
So, to anyone else out there who is scared of holding babies, don’t worry about it. It’s easy. It’s natural. I think it’s even good for your blood pressure, cholesterol level, allergies, and engrams. Why not?
* * *
The first stuffed animal Jack was introduced to wasn’t one of his own, but one of mine.
Meet Tarquin the Whale.
Tarquin was given to me by M one Christmas because, traditionally, I get one gift a year with a whale theme. I like whales. A lot. A friend of mine’s kid is deeply and disturbingly into sharks. My son will be similarly obsessed with whales. If he doesn’t get so obsessed, I will gladly take any whale swag he doesn’t want.
But I digress.
Tarquin has become my little assistant when caring for Jack. He’s a pillow under my arm to help support Jack’s head during some cradling or feeding. He’s a pillow under my head when leaning back in the couch while holding the kid.
If Jack and I are about to take a nap on the couch, Tarquin takes a dive and gets wedged between Jack and my belly so he doesn’t slip off my lap.
He’s a good whale, and he and Jack get along well.
Sp that’s two things to take away today. Holding babies? Good. Stuffed whales? Also good.
Got it? Good!
Cheers!
