Homecoming Queen

Finally the moment had arrived: D Day. We were officially discharged from the hospital. I guess someone thought it was ok for us to go home and actually try this parenting thing by ourselves! We were wheeled out to our car for our journey home. With 3 days of not showering, 1 teeth brushing, and a newborn baby, we felt like vagabonds. We drove home to Marin from San Francisco. The world seemed so bright and cheerful on that spring day. Clearly no one was aware of the pain and suffering that had just taken place in our hospital room. When we came home, we entered the house like zombies and we were greeted by our savior…my mom. We entered our glistening clean condo and were greeted by the smell of a home cooked meal. Unlike the past few days, this meal didn’t come in a tray or in Styrofoam containers. We deliriously shoveled the food in our mouths and passed out…for 20 minutes only to wake up to re-enact scenes from the movie “The Devil Wears Diapers”. The next few days were a bit of a sleep deprived  blur in which we played guessing games about what Nellie’s screams meant. I sometimes think about those days and imagine what they would’ve been like without my mom. We would’ve been so exhausted and trapped in our own home, being held hostage by a 6 pound baby. There would’ve been no way we could’ve procured food for ourselves so we would’ve eaten the condiments in our fridge, sustaining ourselves on a diet of mustard and pancake syrup. To communicate with the outside world, we would’ve lit smoke signals in morse code puffs: S.O.S. If not for my mom, our homecoming would’ve had us running back to the hospital where we would thrown ourselves on the doorstep and begged someone for some food in a styrofoam container. Sometimes, it takes a mom to get a new mom on her feet. And the award for Homecoming Queen goes to…my mom.