December 24/25, Nativity (Luke 2:1-14)
Luke has some sense of how a baby can change everything.
As the commercial starts, sliding hospital doors open to reveal a man and woman; he is holding a baby carrier. “Thirty-six hours ago,” says the voiceover, “you were Jeff and Susan. Now you’re Mom and Dad.” The new parents look nervous and tender enough to tug the heartstrings of anyone who has come home with a baby. The viewer may chuckle, remembering how many things a new parent does not know; or the viewer may tear up at the stunned expression on the new dad’s face when the backup camera brings his attention to a passing car.
A friend recalls her surprise that the hospital let her simply walk out the door with her new son. That feeling of amazement had not passed when it was time for his first appointment with the pediatrician. With my first, I went home after 48 hours in the hospital, and it wasn’t until the next day that I recognized how completely unprepared I was—despite reading Penelope Leach, Sheila Kitzinger, and the original edition of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. What made anyone expect I would be able to bathe this tiny infant? Yes, I had the little washcloths, and the cotton balls, and the hooded towel for drying him. The illustrated, step-by-step instructions did not convey the sense of responsibility I would feel, nor the fear of being unequal to the task.
I brought home an ordinary baby. He was my first and special to me, but he had no unusual characteristics other than a preternaturally wise expression on his face. Friends and family showered us with medium-quality gear: car seat, receiving blankets, onesies, and the dreaded bathtub with its spongy insert on which you rest the baby. My mother came to help; therefore the child received his first baths from more confident and experienced hands.
