This morning I got a phone call on my cell from a strange phone number during the day. Like any other daytime phone call, I let it go straight to voicemail. Then I called voicemail and checked. It was my friend Jill (a writer who CLAIMS to be a lawyer, but she’s really a writer.) calling to say that her water broke, she was going to be delivering her baby, and could I help plan the bris.
Depending on how you count–Benjamin was 3-6 weeks early. I called our synogogue to tell our rabbi and then later talked to her husband. I got permission to visit after work and then on lunch went on an emergency shopping trip. I had nothing for them–they weren’t due for weeks and none of us even considered that she might go into labor early.
So I bought onesies and hats and blankets and diapers and wipes. After work I schlepped it all up to the hospital and managed to find her husband Greg as he raced by to get to the elevator. I had only expected to see the baby through glass, but I got to scrub in. Like on TV. Scrub in, use the magic sink and super duper soap and put on scrubs over my street clothes, and go in to see their 5 lb 13 oz son.
I thought my nephew was small at 7 lbs, but 5 lbs is so much smaller. He was tiny, but not as tiny as they come. I even got to touch him–not to hold him. He has a couple tubes for IVs, but I got to touch him. It was amazing. And I got to spend time with Jill and Greg, listened to the to do list the mohel gave them–what wine to buy, topical anesthetics, honors.
The most bizarre thing, once we were all back in their room, was no baby. He’s in NICU down on the 4th floor and mom’s way up in recovery. When Henry was born, my sister’s room was grand central station. And Henry was the main attraction. Benjamin was still the main attraction and all we talked about, but he wasn’t there to pass around the room. But he will be in about 8 days at his bris and I’ll get to see him there.