When I round the corner into the kitchen, I am not prepared for what I see. Zane is standing there in a pair of ripped blue jeans hanging low on his hips, no shirt, a burp cloth hanging over his shoulder. Baby Bentley is in his arms, screaming his head off. Zane just looks at me with a look of desperation on his unshaven face.
“He won’t stop,” he says over the wailing. “I’ve tried everything. Feeding him. Changing him. I don’t know why I bother; he just keeps throwing it up.”
“Is that the reason you’re not wearing a shirt?” I ask, taking the baby from him.
“Yeah, after being projectile vomited on three times, I gave up,” he says.
“Did you remember to burp him throughout the feeding?” I ask.
“Well, he burped, and everything came up with it,” he says, and I smile.
“I wonder if she nursed,” I say as I pat the baby on the back. “If he nursed, the formula could be upsetting his stomach because he’s not used to it.”
“What do we do if that’s the case?” he asks.
“There are ways we can buy breast milk,” I say. “But in the meantime, he’s going to need more things.”
He’s suckling on his own hand and making soft whimpering noises as he starts to doze.
“How do you do that?” he asks.
“Do what?” I ask, still staring at baby Bentley.
“I love babies,” I say.
“That much is obvious,” he says. “I just meant you have such a way with him.”
And as nervous as I am about what I’m feeling, I smile.
After packing up a diaper bag for Bentley, we tuck him into his car seat. We head to Darling & Co. We need a lot of things, and this quaint baby boutique has everything and more. The first thing we buy is a stroller so that we don’t have to carry the car seat all the time. Then I snag a wrap so that I don’t have to put him in the stroller all the time.
“You’re going to spoil him, holding him all the time,” Zane tells me as we look at pacifiers so that he’ll stop sucking on his hand.
“Oh really? How do you know that?” I ask.
“I’ve been listening to podcasts,” he says.
“Podcasts?” I say with raised eyebrows.
“Baby podcasts?” I ask, tossing a green pacifier in the cart.
“Maybe,” he says, grabbing the same one but in yellow.
“And what did these baby podcasts say?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. I stopped listening after they said not to hold the baby too much,” he says, and I laugh.
We spend the next couple of hours going through every aisle, comparing things, looking things up, and filling the cart to the brim.
“Are you sure he needs all this stuff?” Zane asks. “He’s so little. How can someone so little need so much?”
“Oh, honey, this is only the basics,” the cashier says. “Just wait till he starts crawling. Then you’ll need toys and teethers and all the things to baby-proof your house.”
“Sounds terrifying,” Zane says as he pulls his wallet out.
“Can’t wait,” I say as I kiss Bentley on the top of the head. I opted to wear the wrap out and already have him snugly secured inside. Zane’s eyes flash over to me, and I realize how that might have sounded. I also hear Demi’s voice in my head.
Be careful.
