The things parents do

July 29, 2012. My first night at home with Xavier. He seems a little congested, which I have read is common for newborns, and I've bought saline drops for his nose, as the baby bible suggested.

As the night goes on, he gets more and more congested, snorting and crying and getting more and more worked up. The saline drops don't seem to be doing anything. I am starting to feeling panicked, since he appears to be struggling to breathe.

Ellen is still staying at our house. It's late, maybe 2am, but I reluctantly walk over to her room, knock on the door, and admit that I have no idea what to do. She takes him, puts her lips to each of his nostrils, and sucks the mucus out. (Sorry, I don't know how to describe that any more pleasantly.) For a second he is even angrier, but then suddenly he is fine.

I take him back to my room and we settle back into bed, but before too much longer he is snorting and crying again. So almost without thinking, I put my lips to his nostrils and take care of it. And that is our routine every hour or so for the rest of that night and the following night.(At which point the congestion thankfully subsides on its own.)

Anyone who knows me knows that I am generally squeamish about slimy substances. I guess parenthood, for everyone, immediately challenges and changes things like that. I never, ever would have imagined myself sucking mucus out of a baby's nose, and if he hadn't been mine, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have. (Other person's kid, you're on your own...)

Not saying there is anything noble or virtuous about it--it was an unthinking reaction more than a considered decision. But it was also my first experience of feeling like a father and feeling changed by fatherhood. And that part was pretty good.