member of my club family was more than willing to step in and lend a helping hand, especially the women in the club.
Leigh took it upon herself to teach me everything she knew about babies. And just when I thought we’d finished with the lessons, Blue entered a new stage that came with a completely different set of things to learn, which usually rendered my new skills useless. It was a never-ending cycle, but I was beyond grateful for Leigh’s guidance. I also had a newfound appreciation for my own parents and wished there was some way I could tell them how grateful I was for everything they did for me and Copper.
Then there was River. She had been permanently elevated to angel status in my book. First of all, she was not kidding about the different kinds of baby cries. I did what she said—read the information and took the time to memorize it. Once I was finished, I anxiously waited for Blue to cry so I could test the theory as well as myself. I felt like a bit of an asshole when I cheered for getting the “I’m hungry” cry correct while she was screaming her head off for her bottle.
As a father, I didn’t have the ingrained maternal instinct that most women did. I hadn’t even had time to adjust to becoming a father before I suddenly was one. Giving me the ability to identify my daughter’s needs by the sound of her cries was enough to angelize River in my eyes forever, but then she went and saved Blue’s life, and mine by default.
We’d been home from the hospital for almost four days, and things were going fairly well. Or so I thought. The only issue we were having was getting Blue to go back to sleep after her middle of the night feeding. For some reason, she fought sleep the hardest after that feeding. One night in particular, it was so bad that I put her in my truck and drove around until she fell asleep, which happened to be when we were near the clubhouse. Since I had a portable crib and all her essentials there, I pulled into the forecourt and carried her inside as if I were handling a live bomb.
After sleeping for a few hours, Blue woke up right on time for her six o’clock feeding. I made her a bottle and changed her diaper while letting the warm formula cool for a few minutes. I knew it wasn’t too hot for her, but I felt like you could never be too careful when it came to heat or fire. Being severely burned was one of my biggest fears, which naturally extended to my daughter.
We were developing a bit of a routine, and I was becoming more comfortable and confident in my role as a father. Dropping into the rocking chair Leigh had delivered to the clubhouse, I placed the bottle in Blue’s mouth after making sure we were both comfortable.
“Good morning,” River said from where she was perched at the bar drinking a cup of coffee before she left for work.
“Morning,” I replied and focused my attention on Blue.
At first, everything went the same way it always did. She immediately hoovered the nipple into her mouth and started drinking with fervor. Then, she coughed. It was so tiny I almost ignored it, but thankfully, I didn’t. Instead, I yanked it from her mouth and examined her face. It was hard to tell at first. I wasn’t sure and thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But after a few more seconds, I knew what I was seeing was real.
Throwing the bottle across the room and getting to my feet, I yelled, “She’s turning blue!”
“Give her to me and get the bulb suction!” she demanded.
I handed Blue to her and grabbed the hospital-green bulb that just happened to be laying on top of the bar, holding it out to River. “I want you to thump the bottom of her foot,” she said and started suctioning Blue’s mouth and throat. I did as she instructed and flicked the tender skin on the bottom of my baby’s tiny foot.
“No!” River yelled. “Harder! You need to make her cry!”
The urgency in River’s voice had me thumping the bottom of my newborn’s foot as if she were a grown man. Her entire body tensed right before she let out a ferocious cry. River pulled the bulb from her mouth again and squeezed it,