600 million Chinese women envy us. (Big) little Whitby James B. arrived at 10.17am in this Year of the Dragon, 4709, a whopping 9 pounds and 6 ounces and 21 inches long. His mother labored for a long time before the doctors decided they wanted to get him out of there and he came out crying, which is just how he should have.
When he came out, the anesthesiologist, who probably did a few C-sections that day and maybe twenty that week and a few hundred that year, yelled at me to take a picture. For him, the operating room is old hat, but I'd never been in a place where they put you in never been worn before clothing from head to toe and remove all your jewelry before cutting your wife open, so when he told me to reach for the camera, I stayed right there by Baleen. To which he said, you're crazy, man, and jekylled from Dr. House to Richard Avedon, taking Whit's first forty pictures and capturing his first moments with mom. Thank you crazy Dr. S, and to everybody else in that room.
After the earlier false start with naming him Baxter, Baleen and I kept Whitby close to our chest, only sharing it with one or two people whom we thought would tell us if they loved it or just liked it, and not tell us that it was the worst thing they'd heard. I'd had to pause in my sentences with Baleen in the last month or two and make sure Whitby came out and not Baxter, but now that he's here, he's only Whitby to me. But when we wheel him into the night nursery so Baleen and I can get just a little bit of sleep, the nurses tell the other dozen babies, almost all six or seven pounders, here comes The Boss. So we haven't settled on a nickname, and those things come and go depending on what he shows at what time, but if we had to go with one now, it'd be The Dragon Boss.
When he came out, the anesthesiologist, who probably did a few C-sections that day and maybe twenty that week and a few hundred that year, yelled at me to take a picture. For him, the operating room is old hat, but I'd never been in a place where they put you in never been worn before clothing from head to toe and remove all your jewelry before cutting your wife open, so when he told me to reach for the camera, I stayed right there by Baleen. To which he said, you're crazy, man, and jekylled from Dr. House to Richard Avedon, taking Whit's first forty pictures and capturing his first moments with mom. Thank you crazy Dr. S, and to everybody else in that room.
After the earlier false start with naming him Baxter, Baleen and I kept Whitby close to our chest, only sharing it with one or two people whom we thought would tell us if they loved it or just liked it, and not tell us that it was the worst thing they'd heard. I'd had to pause in my sentences with Baleen in the last month or two and make sure Whitby came out and not Baxter, but now that he's here, he's only Whitby to me. But when we wheel him into the night nursery so Baleen and I can get just a little bit of sleep, the nurses tell the other dozen babies, almost all six or seven pounders, here comes The Boss. So we haven't settled on a nickname, and those things come and go depending on what he shows at what time, but if we had to go with one now, it'd be The Dragon Boss.
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