Page 67 of Courageous Yearnings

“Lance!”

“He’s fixing to lob a grenade… Christopher, this is friendly fire, yo. I’m on your team.”

“Move aside, you big manly Hero,” she chuckled, shoving the filthy receiving blankets and looking at her husband in shock. “I have never seen anyone change a diaper and create an entire load of laundry at the same time.”

“Well, I’ve never seen puce-colored poop before. I’ve been vomited on, splashed with guts, and seen brains – but this is a first for me. My squishy obviously has an intestinal infection or…”

“Lance, stop it,” Blythe said firmly, looking at him. “First off, I’ve had surgery, so please change him in the baby bed, the changing table, somewhere other than the floor so I can help you easily. When this is done, I’m going to need help getting up and cleaning this mess.”

Lance nodded silently and scooted out of the way, looking utterly relieved to have assistance. She sighed, grabbed the wipes, and reached for one of the tiny diapers, fighting back a smile. Having an infant was a learning experience for all of them, and it was hard to get mad when she herself had panicked seeing the black belly button on her son. She had read it in books and knew it was coming, but being exhausted and seeing it in real life, yeah – not everything was clicking in her brain.

Fear that you might actually cause harm by being ignorant of how to raise a child was a real thing. No one ever prepared you to have an infant burp and projectile vomit at the same time. All the books left out the fact that you would fall asleep sitting up because your brain would simply shut down from sheer exhaustion. No, Lance was handling the baby for a bit so she could get four or five hours of sleep, and though he was trying, it was still a challenge for them both.

“Secondly, I’m bottle feeding him, and the nurse said that sometimes this brand causes odd colors.”

“It smells like an elephant exhibit at the zoo.”

“Lance, honey… this is our baby, and he cannot help it,” she said gently, understanding all too well. That first night at the hospital had been full of tears, which is why Christopher was on a soy formula now.

Blythe finished cleaning the baby, put a new diaper on him, and swaddled him tightly like a little Chipotle burrito – or at least that was what the nurse told her to do to keep Christopher comforted.

“How come you make this look easy?”

“Because I’m not panicking, and the nurses at the hospital were very sweet, understanding, and caring.”

“Where was I?”

“In full-blown Dad-panic mode,” she said tenderly, looking at his worried face. “Christopher is perfectly healthy, such a sweet baby, and we are both learning as we go. Instead of panicking, step back and breathe. You rescue people all the time and run into burning buildings. A little discolored poop should not bring you to your knees.”

“It doesn’t,” he denied vehemently – and then gave her a sideways glance. “So this is normal?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s supposed to smell like the paint is gonna peel off the walls.”

Blythe chuckled and moved to caress his cheek lovingly – only to have Lance neatly dodge her hand.

“Nuh-uh,” he said warily. “Wash those mitts first, wife.”

“You know, you probably should have hung out with Justin and Ollie – or Chad and Flynn. Babies sleep, eat, spit-up, and poop.”

“I know that,” Lance sputtered, puffing up his chest.

She smiled and nodded, realizing that perhaps it was time to let him have a moment to gather his ego off the floor. Time would heal all wounds, and it certainly had changed things for them. Fastening the tiny gown, she saw Christopher was working his tiny pink tongue against the roof of his mouth, his lips making a little smacking sound, and she knew it would be time for another bottle soon.

“Why don’t you help me up? Let’s wash the blankets, and we’ll get another bottle ready.”

“You think I’m being a sissy about this.”

“No, Hero. I think you are a beautiful soul who is terrified that something is wrong with our child or that we are going to do something wrong. I understand and feel that so much, but Christopher is doing good. You're not alone in any of this, remember?”

“Partners,” he said humbly, looking at her and smiling. “I love hearing you laugh like that, but it was a lot of poop.”

“I’m sure it was,” she smiled back at him, nodding. “Show me what you’ve got; I don’t want to tense my stomach at all.”

“I get it, Boop. You don’t use a thing, and I’ll do the lifting.”

And Lance did.

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