Avery Merchant Bleiberg, first daughter to Ekem and Nicholas, was born last night, the latest in a long line of Taureans to enter my life. I was fortunate enough to hold her within her first 24 hours of life, something I wasn't able to do with my niece Naomi. What a strange feeling. Such a small, unknowable creature, simultaneously fragile and formidable, dependent and completely self-possessed.
I was also witness to several of the strange rituals surrounding newly minted motherhood. I got to watch the Lactation Expert give a very long-winded presentation about the various issues surrounding breast feeding. Who knew that you were supposed to hold your baby like a football, tucked under one arm, hand behind neck, face smashed into breast? Not me. Also got to watch as a hospital sanctioned photography studio-cum-novelty shoppe offered package deals of baby photos taken right there in the hospital. Said Candace, the sales representative, "Our most popular novelty keepsake (sic) item is the crystal bell." (Just for reference, the crystal bell is pretty much just that: a largish bell, clear crystal, a silver chain dangling, birthstone attached to the end.) As Nicholas said, "that is the problem with keepsakes. You want to throw them away as soon as you get them."
"If you want to have the baby's photo taken, you should have it dressed up when I come by tomorrow at 11am." This sentence confused the heck out of me. Dressed up? This, said to a woman half-passed out from exhaustion, an 18-hour-old baby, navel still an aglomeration of tubes and tape,laying heavily across her recently emptied belly. What are they supposed to dress her up in? The answer, found in the catalog of photo packages and novelty keepsakes: pink frilly shirts and, when possible, headbands. Apparently, newborn babies look best when dressed in looks from the 80s. Que Cyndi Lauper!
Afterwards, I drove north to Pati and Andy's house, happy as a clam. The sun was shining as clearly as an amethyst suspended in a crystal bell. (Nice image, huh? You know you want one.) And I, fresh from the emotional scrubbing provided by my latest viewing of Dil Chatha Hai, was overwhelmed by such gratitude. I'm the luckiest guy in the world, I really am. Chanted down Babylon with Krishna Das (Om Namah Shivaya) until I arrived. Went and had lunch with Pati at Alice and Friends, bought a couple of books at the Armadillo's Pillow, headed over to Little India to buy some sweets and the soundtrack to DCH, then back to Pati's apartment for some nutritious conversation and too much love to keep track of.
Incidentally, my Portuguese was especially shitty today. Couldn't keep up with nothing. Sigh.
Afterwards, stopped by Aaron's house and ate a torta de avocate e una horchata grande. After a short visit to M and Wenner's to pick up some stuff, finally made it home. Tired and happy, exhausted by the wonder of it all.
Que vida!