A couple of weeks ago my Wife had to attend an event for work over the weekend. It was a significant distance out of town and she knew she’d be busy all day long. This left us in a precarious position: what do we do with our son? Sure, it would be best for him to be with Mom all day long, but she wouldn’t be able to both do her job and give him the attention he would require. Dad could come along for the trip… but being surrounded by that many other people in a strange environment didn’t sound like a walk in the park either (though that would allow the few breaks which did exist for my wife to be nursing breaks). Finally we came to the difficult decision: Dad would take care of the baby at home.
At first I was a little hesitant. There are a number of reasons why I would be a dangerous choice to take care of our son for more than twelve hours (a length of time, I might add, that would signal the longest physical separation from his mother ever). Number one reason why my son shouldn’t be left with me: I don’t have access to an endless (or replenish-able) supply of milk. Reason number two: I have no idea what I’m doing. Reason number three: How will I get any work done? (I realize that reason number three sounds a little self-serving, but this is the difficulty of graduate degrees: Familial strife now for familial benefit later).
Early that morning my wife and I got out of bed. She showed me the frozen breast milk. She showed me the bottles. She showed me the diaper and wipe refills (I already know about those though) and she showed herself the door. My son and I just looked out the door, staring blankly for a moment. Neither of us could believe she was gone… (Make sure to check back for Part II).