Don't Drop the Baby

Don’t Drop the Baby

I delivered my son in 1984 as part of a program to help fathers bond with their newborn child. At least that’s what I was told. Frankly I think there was a conspiracy among expecting mothers in a cruel attempt to let dads share in the birth experience.

Terrified, I kept patiently waiting for the OBGYN to give me instructions before my son was born. He had promised as much and I knew, based upon my wife’s choice of words for me at the time, that the baby would soon arrive. When the time came for my wife to push and I was still without instructions I was frantic. Her doctor called me to join him for the delivery and voice trembling I reminded him I had not been told what to do.

He smiled and said, “It’s simple, really. Don’t drop the baby.”

There are some things people aren’t concerned about being careful with.

For example;

· Most any package you receive in the mail marked “Fragile”.

· Your luggage at the airport.

· The ballot boxes in Florida.

Still, other things are handled with extreme care. Included here are common household items such as:

· Plutonium

· Nitroglycerin

· Babies

I was a new parent once. It never occurred to me that I might be just a tad paranoid about others handling our baby. In fact, it didn’t occur to me until I observed my daughter and first grandchild together. My daughter looked horrified as “Nellie” was passed from person to person. As I tried to console her I heard my own parents chuckling in the background.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing,” my mom said, coyly smiling with a been there done that look.

Had this been me at one time I wondered? Taking my grandchild in my arms I noticed my daughter’s apprehension didn’t get any better.

“Support her head,” she scolded. “Don’t lift her like that. You’re going to drop her.” And finally the crushing blow, “I thought you had babies once.”

Funny, I was thinking the same thing. Four babies as a matter of fact and while it’s not listed in Guinness as a record I never dropped a single one.

Intrigued by this I began observing other new parents. They all seem to share this heightened sense of paranoia with their newborn. Some parents will coach and scold regarding baby holding technique while others will flatly refuse to let anyone to touch their baby.

So, to all you new parents out there… relax. You are not alone.

Stop and think for a minute. The fact is that babies are resilient little people. Just the miracle of being born demonstrates what they are capable of enduring. All of my children seemed to handle birth better than I did as a bystander. Contrary to popular belief there aren’t that many wrong ways to handle one. Okay, granted we all have that one relative we might think twice about. For the most part though relatives and friends are going to handle your baby with tender loving care just as you do.

Here are some simple things to remember when holding your baby:

1. Relax – if you are tense and nervous your baby will sense it. This is the easy part… wait until they’re teenagers.

2. Support their head – the muscles in a baby’s neck have not developed enough to hold up and support their head.

3. Hold your baby close – the outside world is quite different for a newborn that has been safe inside a womb for nine months. Holding your baby close will make them feel safe and warm.

4. Support your baby when lifting – place one hand underneath your baby and another underneath their head when lifting. Be gentle and don’t use sudden movements so you won’t startle them.

5. Talk to your baby – You don’t necessarily have to use that special baby voice with lots of goo goos and gaa gaas but talk to your baby. Your voice helps them recognize and bond with you.

Ironically, this paranoia eases with time as new parents gain confidence and babies get older. It’s now my turn to be the paranoid one. I’m watching horrified as my daughter flings my now one-year-old granddaughter up to her hip, lifts her over her head, flipping Nellie head over heels until her feet land gently on the floor.

“Oh Dad, she loves that,” my daughter exclaims noticing my horror and futile attempts to catch my breath.

She’s right of course. My granddaughter cackles with glee and extends her arms for another flight.

I had to sit down.

Somewhere in the background, I could hear my Mom and Dad laughing.