First Experiences with a Newborn Baby Boy

At my 20-week ultrasound the technician happily announced, "If you were hoping for a little girl, I've gotta tell you...this one is gonna pee in your face!"

The ultrasound technician was apparently not the only one who, upon congratulating me, laughed and predicted that my little bundle of boy was indeed going to pee in my face - repeatedly. It's not that I have anything against uncontrollable bodily functions and fluids, but it was incredibly frustrating being told over and over again this was definitely going to happen and I had better get used to the idea. So, like every good-intentioned expecting mother, I decided this was not going to happen to me.

From that first moment when I was certain I was having a little boy, I mentally began to prepare myself for the notorious challenges associated with his delightful yet unpredictable water "fountain." I read the books. I had extras of everything. I even packed a stack of burp cloths and washcloths in my hospital bag so I would always have one for the baby, and one for his little fountain. By the night I went into labor, I was ready!

My son arrived and he was perfect! I busily began mothering and at every diaper change I very carefully kept everything covered. After the first successful two and a half days of not being sprinkled, I was convinced this was going to be easier than everyone had made it out to seem.

For the better part of the third day, we were anxiously waiting to be released from the hospital to go home. I had bundled the baby up in warm clothes and figured out how to securely strap him into his infant seat. When the nurse entered our room, I was already putting my coat on too. The nurse said we were free to go, but all she needed was to check for one more wet diaper since I had just fed the baby before bundling him up into the seat. Though I was more than a bit perturbed that this nurse didn't think to ask me about a wet diaper before I had so painstakingly gotten my son ready to leave, I undid the straps and unbundled everything. I laid my son on the bed and undid his outfit and his diaper for the nurse to inspect. It was bone dry. Disappointed, the nurse said, "Let me know when it's wet and then you can leave."

Standing there a bit dumbfounded I could've cried, but then my son started crying and I remembered I was there to take care of him so I had to get over myself. Because of my frustration with the nurse, I hadn't remembered to keep everything covered and I was suddenly searching for a burp cloth or a wash cloth, then remembering they had all carefully been folded and packed into our suitcase, which was where they should have been as we should have been on our way home already! As if my son knew exactly what I was thinking, he suddenly started peeing! His little fountain springing to life sprayed all over the room and very close to the nurse's feet as she was about to exit the room. The nurse just laughed, making a note on her clipboard chart, and said, "Yep, that's a wet diaper! You're ready to go now."

My husband knew I was frustrated and he found this all too amusing. Yet, this was the first moment I realized that we were officially the new parents and since we were on our way out of the hospital, no one was going to help us. As the new mother, I was on my own. I had to change my son's wet clothes, his diaper, and his wet blanket, pack all the wet items into a bag in the suitcase, and then get him all bundled up back into the car seat again. I didn't mind the extra fifteen minutes it took me to accomplish this, and in fact, I even dragged it out a bit as by now the nurse was ready for us to go, if not rushing us out the door, and I thought it was only fair that she had to wait on me.

On the ride home, my husband laughed about how he didn't know what was funnier: my being so frustrated with the nurse or "his" son peeing on cue! He was such the proud father too as his son already knew exactly what to do what that thing. He couldn't wait to get home and start making phone calls to tell everyone. He was only sorry he didn't have any pictures! Needless to say, I didn't see quite as much humor in this as he did.

Well, not until a few weeks later...

That evening, after I had just finished nursing our son and he was curling up to sleep, my husband first asked if it would be okay to hold him. Up until that point, my husband had been very nervous around the baby because he was so tiny and he was afraid he might hurt him or not do something right. My husband was insistent that as his mommy I was doing a much better job. Knowing the significance of one of his first few times asking to do something for our son on his own, I gently laid the baby on his chest. To his immense satisfaction, our son never woke up and snuggled deeper against his shirt and shoulder. They were so cute that I ran to get the camera. From the other room I heard my husband shout, "Honey, I need some assistance."

When I appeared in the doorway, my son was still peacefully sleeping on his daddy's shoulder, which was now covered with mustard colored poop!

The best part? I have pictures!!