See Theo Run

Me, Mark and baby T.

The day Theo was born the mercury hit 36 degrees. We’d spent the last week quaffing icy drinks as we ran around madly getting the basics together – diapers, wipes, cloths, bassinette, sheets, bottles and brushed, soothers, onesies… the list went on and one. People were dropping off strollers, carriers, a car seat, bags of clothing, and sending well-intentioned emails with lists of things we needed to get. It was completely overwhelming, and I was felt like we needed everything in place – as if a newborn baby needed a crib, a stroller and shoes!

The arranged “pickup” time was 2:30 pm on July 28, so we had plenty of time to fret. We had no idea how these “events,” “happenings,” “handoffs,” were supposed to take place and no words to describe picking up a baby from a young woman who’d given birth 24 hours ago. A birth plan was in place but we were not privy to the information so we had no idea what lay head. We got dressed in our lightest respectable clothing, packed up a diaper bag, a coming home “Jedi” outfit for baby,a bouquet of gladiolas for grama, and a keepsake necklace from Birks for Sierra. We hopped in our new family mobile and headed to the hospital. The parking lot was an oven. We arrived in the air-conditioned hospital with our soaking shirts and flattened hair beaten and frazzled. A social worker met us and led us upstairs to Sierra’s private room.

Baby Theo was lying in the middle of the bed surrounded by birthparents, birthgrandparents, nurses and a social worker. He was a wrinkly little guy with a shock of dark hair, an oversized diaper and a pair of enormous blue slippers on. Birth grama and granpa seemed relieved and happy that Sierra had given birth to a healthy child (7lb, 5 oz and apgar scores perfect). Sierra, who up to this point had been the rock in the family, was sobbing uncontrollably, and Kyle was sitting beside her on the bed. The birth had unleashed some powerful emotions, and there was nothing we could do about it.

We felt strange and tongue-tied again. We had no idea whether we should pick up the baby or let him lie there. He was so tiny, and we didn’t know him at all. Every so often, he’d emit a tiny cry and then fall asleep. We finally picked up this featherweight being who was our new son, and placed him gently into his new outfit. We all exchanged presents and mementoes to mark the occasion.

We have photos of everyone with the baby, and in every shot Sierra is crying. Witnessing this level of pain was unbearable, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It was a birth but it felt like a funeral. We felt awkward and terrible. There was no reasonable thing to say or do; we were in the eye of an emotional storm with no way out. After an hour-and-a-half of photos and odd snippets of conversation, the family went home and left us with the baby.

We should have felt joy and happiness, and we do look happy in the photos, but we were in a state of total shock. We then spent a blurry hour watching a PowerPoint presentation newborn baby feeding, crying, pooing etc. We did not absorb a single word. By the time we got into the car, we’d been at the hospital for three hours. We had not changed or fed the baby, and we had a good 40-minute drive home in rush hour.

Thankfully, Theo slept all the way home. We got him inside and immediately fed him using one of the infant formula bottles provided at the hospital. We changed his first diaper, lay him in the bassinette in the living room, drank two large glasses of Coke and stared at him. We were parents at last.