Keeping the baby alive

Lately, when people ask us “Are you excited?” we respond, jokingly, “Yes, and scared too. Once she’s home we have to keep her alive.”

Big Papa and I are parenting newbies. We are clueless about most things baby-related. When does she sleep or nap and for how long? What does she eat and how much? How do we bathe her? On and on it goes.

I sent an email with a list of questions to our International Adoption doctor and his assistant responded, “Sounds like it’s time for you to buy a baby care book.” Um yeah, you think?

We needed help. So we called in the big guns, a professional—a postpartum doula. Postpartum doulas provide support to the mother and family following the birth and immediate postpartum period for a few days or several weeks, depending on need. Support may include assisting with breastfeeding support and newborn care, cooking, light housekeeping or errands. Doulas also offer education, companionship and nonjudgmental support during for the few weeks following birth.

Granted, I didn’t give birth to our daughter but having someone around, even for a few hours in the first couple weeks, someone who knows what they’re doing, seemed like a brilliant idea to me. Aside from our lack of knowledge and experience, Big Papa and I (and the baby) will be very jet-lagged (12-hour time difference) and don’t have any immediate family who live near enough to pitch in.

At a recent diapering class we took, one of the attendees approached us after class and told us that, in addition to being a doula, she is an adoptive mom. Bingo! We found our doula.

Next came the icing on the cupcake. Big Papa recently sent a letter to our nice neighbors who rent the house next door. I put nice in italics for emphasis–they are really nice. This is an enormous relief for us because the previous renters weren’t nice at all. Let’s just say there were many late nights where Big Papa was knocking on their door because their party was loud enough that we might as well have been hosting it. There were also two potentially vicious dogs who shared the home with them. And then there was the time when “friends” of theirs swore at us, threatened us and threw beer cans in our yard while we were gardening in our own yard.

Big Papa’s letter politely requested access to our driveway come April when we become parents. Parking is a premium where we live and people frequently park blocking our driveway. It didn’t bother us at all, until now.  Once we have our bundle of joy, we felt it would be fantastic (particularly during rainy Seattle weather) to be able to pull right up to our house and not have to walk around the corner if parking is scarce.

A day or so after the letter was dropped off there was a knock at our door. I went to open it and there were two of the smiling tenants from next door carrying a lovely miniature rose potted plant. I let them in and we chatted about our impending parenthood, our houses and the neighborhood until one of the gals said, “We’re all nannies and babysitters. If you ever need any help, we left our phone numbers and email addresses in the card that’s tucked beside the plant.”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure whether I should hug the living daylights out of them or fall to my knees in adoration. Nannies! Nice nannies. Right next door!

After they left, I called Big Papa and told him: “We just won the lottery! Our nice neighbors are nannies.”

Then I gave thanks to the patron saint of motherhood. Life is good.