Come to poppa: Hubby is ready for the baby

As the oldest daughter of eight children, I have some experience raising babies. Whether I liked it or not, my hands changed many a dirty diaper and wiped many a snotty nose.

My husband, on the other hand, is the baby of his family— he arrived a good 15 years after his closest sibling. So you wouldn’t think he knows much about babies except that they’re cute, but you would be wrong.

From about third grade until I went away to college, there was usually a baby on my hip. Growing up was pretty hectic, and I was never in a rush to have my own. But now that I am, finally — under great pressure from my large Irish family — I know it’s going to be different.

My husband, bless him, continues to instill great confidence in me that, with his help, we’ll do all right. Since learning he’s getting the little girl he always wanted, he’s been super interested in babies.

He’s been getting good practice, too, considering my brother and his wife had their first baby, a boy, in June and my sister and her guy welcomed a little girl in July.

We got to meet our family’s newest newborns when we all converged on the Eastern Shore earlier this month for our annual beach getaway.

And I got a taste/reminder of what’s in store for us, that is: late night nursing sessions, wobbly infant necks, spit-up and spit-up rags, a dozen diaper changes per day, at least, and learning to let them cry it out when they’re fed and changed and basically just tired.

That’s a good thing about newborns: they sleep a lot. And oh yeah, they’re joyous little creatures that evoke great feelings of love and affection in the parents, or so I’m told. My unborn child has been kicking and moving like crazy for the past month, and I’ll admit, I’m feeling more attached.

My husband felt her move the other week, and he’s been all aflutter since, declaring his undying love for our daughter.

With three months left to carry her, I’m still slightly indifferent, as is normal.

Those strong maternal tendencies I keep hearing about have not kicked in though I am curious at the prospect.

Not nervous about the impending arrival of our infant, I am unsure of some things, like how to hold them.

It’s been awhile.

Over vacation, it was awkward holding my siblings’ offspring; I couldn’t arrange them comfortably in that nook under my arm and was always worried about holding their head correctly so it wouldn’t wobble off. Inevitably, the crying babies got handed back to their mothers in minutes.

It was a completely different story with my husband. He held both babies numerous times for extended periods in the most natural way, like he has a secret love child somewhere.

The babies rarely cried when in his arms, as he bounced them up and down gently.

My husband’s father died of cancer when he was 3 or 4, and yet he has some pretty dear and vivid memories of their short time together, and I think that’s part of it – not having his father around makes my husband strive to be the best he can be.

He has this effortless manner with babies, kids and animals, and I’m thinking it’s going to serve us both well in parenthood, which is ever knocking.

We’re beginning to accumulate baby items as friends and family offer new and recycled  items, and I’ve started cleaning out the guestroom, the future nursery.

There’s a lot we still need to do to prepare and we’re procrastinating, enjoying our final weeks of being kid-less, eating out and traveling, going to concerts, hanging with friends and sleeping in.

And yet it was the funniest thing the other morning. In another example of his sudden fondness for little ones, my husband invited our 8-year-old nephew to go on an overnight trip to Busch Gardens. The little guy was up and raring to go before 7 a.m., normally an ungodly hour for my better half. My husband, to my amazement, rolled over and declared, “You know what? I feel good.”

Usually, I can barely get him to roll over that early and forget about trying to talk to him. Open a shade to let in some light and you’re dead.

I don’t know if it was the prospect of two days at an amusement park or some sort of supernatural preparation for fatherhood.

Either way, it’s nice to know he can take the early shift when baby arrives.