Holding the Baby
I love to visit different countries and have done so many times over the years. I have just returned to Australia and as does happen each time I am refreshed and have a particular focus arising from my overseas experiences. This time I am thinking about one of my favorite subjects … mothers and babies or mothers and children. Since I visit Asian countries quite a lot I love to see how mothers carry their babies and although strollers and baby prams are becoming popular they are still not as common there as in the west.
So … the babies are carried, if not by the mother, and more increasingly by the father, then by a sibling or another member of the extended family. Toddlers usually only ‘toddle’ in their own homes and it is uncommon in fact to see a child on the ground in a public place or anywhere else for that matter. It is also rare to see a newborn baby anywhere out in public and I think this is partly due to the fact that in many cultures it is considered unhealthy, even harmful for a new mother to venture out too early during her postpartum phase. If mother is not out and about, then her baby will be snuggled at home with her. Although lifestyles are changing rapidly there is still a ‘culture of nurture’ remaining for the woman who has just given birth.
One day in Sydney I went with my daughter to check out a day care centre for my grandson who was then three. After looking around for a while we stumbled upon a small alcove or should I say a corridor that lead from one room to another. There were three bassinets lined up each with a sleeping baby tucked tightly into their small cocoons. It all looked very cute somehow but I suddenly felt a bit like that mother lioness. I was afraid to leave these babies so alone. My daughter watched for a while and we were trying to determine the ages of these babies. Not one looked over six weeks old but we were probably wrong. My daughter needed to continue her familiarization with the place she may send her son to for two or three days a week. I could not leave. No one was there to look over these ‘cubs’. Then one started to stir. He or she was so tiny. The baby looked more like a ‘he’ to me and he did the typical thing of a waking baby. He squirmed. He stretched his limbs as much as the tight sheeting would allow.
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and then opened them ever so slightly. Then immediately he dozed off for a second. I was relieved until he gave another big stretch. He stretched until one of his arms popped out from under the sheet and that gave him a little fright. He began to open his eyes into little slits. Then the searching began. He focused a little. I watched him looking for something familiar. That he could not find. I was a little afraid to make contact and ‘be there’ for him in case someone came and saw me as interfering. Without touching him I put my head in his sight line. I saw a little shock pass over his face. He saw a face he did not recognize. He was displeased. He screwed up that little face of his. His lower lip came out and he was very sad. He didn't cry though. Then he opened his eyes really wide and stretched his head to look further afield. He was looking for the familiar. I felt sad then. I felt sad for him and I wondered where his mother was. I was thinking if only his mother knew what was happening right in that moment she would definitely be very upset. I felt very sad for her too. I wiped her un-had tear from my eye. This little guy was getting used to no one being there. I decided I would put myself in his sights. At first I cooed a bit and he looked surprised. His eyes bulged out but then he relaxed. I talked to him in reassuring tones and after a while decided it was best I find a ‘worker’ to come and take care of him. I left the room . I found a young woman who was involved with a group of two year olds. She thanked me for informing her. I then went to find my daughter. We left twenty minutes later. I checked in on my new wee baby. No one had been to him. Amazingly he was laying motionless, still awake and staring at the sheet of his bassinet. To this day I have never forgotten him. Is he one of the ‘quiet ones’? … except when he has a temper tantrum. I will never know but what I observed that day showed me the startle and fear in a tiny baby’s eyes. Maybe he is happy and well adjusted due to many other factors that have played out for him in his life. I somehow don’t think so.
Oh, and by the way if you decide to ‘do the right thing’ by keeping a continuum of close contact with your baby by carrying him or her on your body, please don’t turn them outward, that is, their back to your front, especially at three or four months old. This very morning with the temperature at a chilly six degrees I saw a man walking along a street. The baby, caringly, strapped to his body, was facing outwards. The man had gloves on. The baby did not and he had his legs poking out rigidly while his arms were flapping up and down. His little face was all screwed up against the cold and wind. When I saw this baby’s eyes open I saw the horror in those little blue eyes. He looked as though he was his father’s protective armour. His father looked cozy and proud tucked behind his little baby’s warm back. The baby had no chance to make a sound. He was distracted, so busy fending off the assault to his senses; the sound of the noisy peak time traffic; the chill of the wind in his eyes, mouth and face; the sights of the many movements he had to synthesise as his father rushed along. By the man’s attire I could see he was rushing to work. I wondered where this very small baby was off to … a childcare facility, no doubt. I was left hoping someone would cuddle him long and gently to thaw him out, both body and mind as his father rushed away to his office.
