Nappy days
Will Johnston revels in life with a newborn, and all its smelly surprises.
My life has changed in the most glorious and fulfilling way. I feel like I’ve just been given the quiet word by the universe that this is actually the point of life: To create and love new life. Only took almost 40 years to get it.
Since Goldie was “whipped out the sunroof” in late October, I can’t think of a better feeling than reclining on the couch, my baby daughter on my chest swaddled like an oversized Christmas bauble, freshly nappy-changed, perfectly asleep with the rain outside for extra cosiness, breathing in the smell of her little newborn head. Delicious!
But it seems there are a few things new parents need to find out the hard way…
We’ve all heard of the poo explosion, “poonami”, “apoocalypse”, a serious “shituation”. You know, the one where it goes through all the clothes and up the back. But we didn’t realise what would happen when that hilariously small, pink baby bottom is unsheathed and turns into a poo-shooter, a bum-gun if you will. Juuuuuuust when you think she’s strained for 10 minutes, she lets a huge one out in the nappy and immediately passes out with the effort… You gingerly remove the nappy, assess the damage, run a solid clean-up crew. Then and only then does she throw the final wave of bum-grenades out of the trench, over the waiting nappy, and on to the wall, the mirror, the carpet, the blinds and your hands.
We were also not informed that newborns are weirdly loud sleepers. The groans, the strains, the noise that resembles a cat in the distance, the creepy little laugh from beside the bed at 3.30am.
What I’ve come to learn over the last few weeks of being a dad is that my baby is SO lucky to have been born in Tauranga, where we have amazing midwives and medical facilities. I’ve learned that a baby smile is sometimes a smile, and sometimes the precursor to a sniper-like poo. I’m thankful she’s a girl, otherwise I would’ve totally had baby pee in my face multiple times. I’ve learned that my wife is the bravest person I know, has a pain threshold higher than I could ever imagine, and possesses a natural ability to know just what to do with our Goldie girl at any point. I’ve learned I need more storage on my iCloud for the seven pics I take of every one of her facial expressions. Finally, I’ve learned that if you ever brag to your partner that you managed to get the screaming baby to settle, then she will immediately wake up, vomit on your shirt just before you leave the house for a meeting you’re already late for, and throw in a poonami for good measure.
