78 THENEWYORKER,MARCH16, 2020
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bottle the nurse said worked for preemies.
Beneath that, I wrote the date and time
of the baby’s birth, and the weather.
The last thing Kathy had written was
“hats and booties in cheerful colors,”
and my eyes welled up. What else did
we need?
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” I folded the paper and
put it away. “We’ve already got a lot of
this coming from my brother.”
She let her arm drop, and her head
fell back as she lay there immobile,
sighing. “When the baby gets out,
I’m hiring a night nurse. You can pay
for that.”
I reached over and held a suction cup
in place. The door banged open and a
nurse came in.
Kathy grabbed the remote. “God,
Darryl, how do I change the channel?”
The nurse gauged Kathy’s post-op
pain, gave her some Demerol, and left
a bowl of vanilla ice cream.
Kathy reached for the ice cream, and
I held both suction cups in place while
she ate. Her breasts were as firm and
round as the end of a baseball bat. She
pulled the spoon out of her mouth, ice
cream half eaten, and slid it back in. She
was not herself. Normally, if I listened
carefully, I could hear a sound coming
out of her head like a humming refrig-
erator. Now there was nothing. It was the
drugs, or the new sensations taking over,
or the relief of knowing that the baby
was safe. I put my shoulder on the pil-
low next to her and leaned my head back.
“Were you sleeping somewhere?”
“I was up in the nicu, I told you. I
gave her a bottle.”
She looked at me strangely. “Did
something go wrong?”
“You mean with me?”
“Upstairs.”
“I haven’t slept in two days.” I kept
forgetting Kathy hadn’t seen the baby
yet, except for this Polaroid taped to the
bed rail.
She picked up the remote again and
pointed it at the TV. “You’re very mag-
nificent,” she said calmly. On the screen,
a famous singer was singing outdoors
somewhere with a new haircut. “Were
the nurses helpful?”
“Amazing.”
“And you burped her when you
finished?”
I said yes.
“And they weighed the poop?”
“Yes.”
“What color was it?”
“Green.”
“I just need a minute now with no-body inside me for once. Do you know
what I mean? I need to have nobody in
me or on me for a minute.”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Does that make me a terrible mother?”
I said no.
“I’m still sad I wasn’t there. There are
mothers who think the nicu is a day-
care center. I’m not going to just lie here
and let them do everything.”
I was relieved to hear her say that.
I’d hoped that she’d be a great mother,
but I’d worried that she’d be a terrible
mother, and I was looking for signs that
she’d get off on the right foot.
“What’s it like up there?”
“It’s fine. I was just in the cafeteria,
which is nice, although you wouldn’t
want those people running the nicu.”
“Anyway, I’m glad you were there.”
“I’m good with children.”
“It’s so important for a girl to have
a good relationship with her father.”
“Let me write that down.”
“You’ll be spending a lot more time
with her than you thought.”
“I have nine business days off, count-
ing today.”
“I hope that’s O.K. with you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Once I can walk, I’ll do everything.”
“I’ve already factored in bonding with
my own kid, F.Y.I.” I stood and pushed
the recliner back in place and straight-
ened the blinds.
She explained how the brain devel-
oped, with neurons, specific ones, that
were created when the father was around.
“The presence of the biological father
delays the onset of puberty. Having the
father in close proximity.”
“If we break up now, she turns into
a slut.”
“If we stay together, she can learn
the clarinet.”
I threw away newspapers and Sty-
rofoam takeout boxes with old Cae-
sar salad falling out of them, and slid
the garbage can out into the hall. Then
Kathy put in her earrings and I went
down the hall and got a wheelchair.W
e made our way to the elevator,
Kathy holding her I.V. pole, me
pushing the wheelchair. In the nicu,
the nurses introduced themselves, moved
furniture, rolled her up to the incuba-
tor, and put the baby in her arms. The
neonatologist, a little round woman, ar-