Day 3



You waited. Grades were in. Finals completed. Your brother graduated from kindergarten. Once the end of the year flurry was over, you came. You came at night, 2:44 AM, with a head of blonde and red hair, the biggest surprise.

You’ve been with us for three days, now. The first day you dozed as nurses and doctor poked and prodded. The second day, we brought you home and you dozed, intermittently staring at us, the wall, the patterns in your bedroom. The third day, today, you cried. You cried with each diaper change, long, piercing wails for an infant only 56 hours old. Once, you pulled an Aunt Jackie and held your breath, an impressive force of will. At the moment, I’ve handed you to your father and you’re sleeping, happily. We must figure out this diaper thing. It’s rather non-negotiable, the bodily removal of waste and your mother’s disposal of it, so I am not sure how to stop the screaming, but don’t worry, your mother does not lack for imagination, and I will think of something. Something.

In other news, the house welcomed us home. The washer and a toilet backed up on the day your father returned to work. It was lovely.

Welcome to our family, Max. We’ve been waiting for you to complete our family, and now, you’re here, filling our house with your protests, your sleep smiles, and your laundry. Welcome, little one.


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