By Terry
Last Thursday was an incredible day for me. I had the honor and the privilege of meeting Charlie, the 6-day old son of my best friend, J and her husband P.
Under usual circumstances, meeting your best friend’s baby is, of course, special and wonderful, but nothing about Charlie is usual. He arrived 10 weeks early and about 250 miles from home. Conveniently for me, that put him 200 miles closer to where I live, and made it relatively easy for me to get to the hospital as soon as J and P said I could come.
In the days between the unexpected announcement and my scheduled visit, I contemplated any number of dramatic gifts, but, as the hectic world that is my life never slowed down, what I managed to do was what I always do. I cooked and I shopped.
J was discharged from the hospital the night before I arrived. I met them at the hotel that will be their home for the next several weeks, baked ziti, brownies, candy, toys, and other treats in hand, and we headed to the hospital. Charlie is the smallest baby that I've ever seen, and is living in the NICU. Although tiny, and attached to various devices, he seems healthy and safe, and I was thrilled to get to see him and to touch him, if only with my pointer finger.
Eventually, it was time for Charlie to go back to sleep. P headed off on his own for a while. J and I went to a diner.
We shared a shake, ate some fries, and stopped at a salon for pedicures. We talked as if we were the only ones there, and laughed riotously, likely disturbing the serenity of the other patrons, but not really caring very much. It was what we would do together on any normal visit, despite the fact that there is nothing -- nothing! -- normal about her life right now.
Before I left, J thanked me for the day and the pasta and practically skipped (as much as someone less than a week post c-section can skip!) up the ramp and into the hotel.
How remarkable it was to be invited into this very private moment in their lives, to be allowed to share with them, to be among the first to be welcomed into the circle of their new family, to give and receive love in the face of fear and uncertainty.
And I learned, or re-learned, something that day: Sometimes when you think that a situation is so big that it requires a grand gesture, all it really takes is some pasta and a bottle of Scarlett O'Hara.
Your post makes me so happy too. I've been reading J's blog for a long time now, and I'm thrilled that if she wants to, she can now start writing on dotmoms!
J is so lucky to have such a great friend.
Posted by: Angie | December 08, 2004 at 04:57 PM
I'm so glad you were able to take some time with your friend. It enable her to take a break from worry and NICU, which can be depressing even if you're baby is doing fine. (My son, Nathan was 7 weeks early so I can relate.) And now you have some great stories to tell Charlie when he's older and ends up taller than you are!
Posted by: Anne-Marie | December 05, 2004 at 05:15 PM
Your friend and her baby are so lucky to have you. I was sadly disappointed by my best friend's reaction to my baby. She like him of course, but he seemed to be just another baby to her -- nothing special. Reading your story makes me so happy that your friend's baby has someone like you to love him. A family friend can be the most special adult in a child's life. It's very clear you dearly love your friend and I'm sure you'll be a special friend to her son as well.
Posted by: Sally | December 04, 2004 at 01:34 PM