It was when he started to squirm about and then became very still, I realized I was about to get my first experience with one of the more . . . sensory aspects of being a parent.
“Pooey,” Tanner complained, twisting in my lap to frown up at me.
A distinct smell followed his irritated declaration.
“Pooey, da.”
I sat frozen for a moment. “Really?”
Confession time. I’ve never changed a dirty nappy, or diaper, as they call them over here. I’ve never changed a nappy, period. I was struck immobile by the very thought. Glancing at the door, I wondered where Amanda was. Laugh all you want, but panic had kicked in.
Tanner patted me on the chest, his frown now one of distress. “Pooey, da,” he repeated.
“Err . . .” I answered back.
Twisting about on his bed, I looked for the buzzer to call the nurse and pushed it. Pushed it hard.
“Pooey,” Tanner stressed, now trying to pull at the back of his PJ pants.
I’d just climbed from the bed, Tanner on my hip, his rather full nappy mashing against me, when a nurse strode in the room. She was familiar. A part of me was dismayed it wasn’t Carla. The rest of me was relieved I’d been saved.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“G’day,” I said, giving her a sheepish grin. “I think Tanner’s filled his nappy.”
She frowned. “His what?”
“Diaper,” I blurted, remembering where I was. “Sorry. I’m Australian.”
“Ahh,” she said. I couldn’t miss the amusement in her eyes. Whether it was at my predicament or at my unnecessary declaration of nationality, I didn’t know. “Let me get you what you need.”
She pivoted on her heel, went to a cupboard in the corner of the room and withdrew a folded disposable nappy, a packet of baby wipes and a bottle of what looked like lotion.
“Pooey,” Tanner reiterated on my hip.
I stared at the nurse as she moved from the cupboard to a baby change table I’d never noticed before.
“There you go.” She placed the items on its surface and offered me a smile.
I didn’t move. Oh boy . . .
Her smile grew wider. I swear I saw a flash of mischief in her expression. It hit me why she looked familiar. She was the very first nurse I ever met here – Julie, I think Amanda had introduced her as, the nurse who looked after Tanner when Amanda wasn’t there.
Tanner continued to pat my hip. “Pooey. Pooey.”
The air hung heavy with the smell of . . . well, you know what it smelled like, I’m sure.
“Ever changed a diaper before?” Julie asked, eyes twinkling.
I shook my head, relief rushing through me. Hey, ask me to cold bench-press two-hundred kilograms and I’m gravy.
Julie raised her eyebrows and patted the change-table mattress. “Then this will be your first.”
Whatever the expression was that filled my face, it made Julie laugh. Tanner joined in.
I pouted at him. “Hey, no fair.”
He giggled and squirmed on my hip some more.
“Yeah, you work that into all the creases and cracks, buddy,” I admonished with a chuckle.
Julie laughed. “He’s just making sure your first time is memorable. Ready?”
A sense of dread rolled over me. I stared at the change table, took a deep breath – holy crap, was that a bad idea – and walked over to it. The whole process wasn’t pretty. But I think I did myself proud. Despite the fact Tanner decided to urinate, mid-change, as I was wiping at the toxic waste clinging to his butt and groin, his aim exquisitely on target with my cheek, it wasn’t the abject disaster I feared it would be. I gagged all the way through it. And laughed. And winced. And cowered. Julie, helpful to the nth degree, pointed out every bit I missed, offering words of encouragement the whole time, even as she tried desperately not to laugh at me.
Tanner thought it a riot.
Thank God I’ve got quick reflexes, because he did his best to roll onto his stomach and scramble off the table as I was attempting to fasten his new, clean nappy, giggling the whole way of course. I snared him by the ankle with a gentle hand, returned him to his back and arched an eyebrow at him, adjusting his oxygen tube beside him. “You’re not making this easy, buddy.”
He wriggled and grinned. “Pooey.”
“Hey,” I grinned back. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You did well,’ Julie agreed, bestowing on me the kind of smile I’ve seen proud grandparents give when a grandchild stops picking their nose when asked.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but I felt like I’d conquered the world. Still felt that way, even as I stood in the small bathroom, washing my hands and cleaning my cheek of wee.
It wasn’t until I was helping Tanner back into his PJ bottoms, him standing on the change table holding my shoulders, Julie supporting his back with a steady hand, that it registered with me just how thin he was. Toddlers’ legs are meant to be chubby. Tanner’s legs . . .
A dull sadness crept through me and, swallowing, I looked up and brushed a shaking finger down the length of his little nose. “I’m not going to fail you again, Tanner,” I said, my voice barely more than a croak. “Now I’m here, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re here as well. We’re both here for the long run, buddy. The long run.” I nudged his forehead with mine, my throat suddenly very thick. “Okay?”
Small hands tapped my shoulders. “’Sokay.”
“It’s okay by me, too,” Amanda said behind me.
I straightened from Tanner, shooting her a look over my shoulder. “You missed the fun.” I felt shaky. My voice sure as hell sounded that way.
Crossing the room to us, Amanda gave me a warm smile. “Seems that way.” She touched her fingers to the small of my back, and traced them up my spine. It was a caress she’d given me almost every day we’d been together in Australia, a connection of nerves and senses that had always filled me with elemental joy. “So, Julie, how’d he do?”
Julie bestowed another one of those grandmotherly proud smiles on me. “Very well. His technique is interesting . . . and he needs to learn how to duck, but he did well.”
Amanda pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes dancing. “Did Tanner . . . Did you . . .”
I grimaced, and then laughed. “Yep. Right on the cheek.”
“Pee!” Tanner crowed enthusiastically.
“Well,” said Julie, rubbing her hands together, “seeing as the crisis is dealt with, I shall get back to the desk. Tanner, take care of your mommy and daddy for me, okay?”
He patted my shoulder again. “Da ’sokay.”
Julie smiled at me. “That he is.” And she left us.
Still supporting Tanner on the change table, I shot Amanda a quick smile. I felt nervous.
“Very okay,” she whispered, tracing my spine again with her fingers.
Pulse crazy wild, I lowered my face to hers and kissed her. A soft, gentle kiss that promised her I was never going anywhere. She answered with a softer groan, her fingers skimming my jaw. In that touch, her own promise.
“Mommy,” Tanner said, a second before he grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged.
I pulled away from Amanda, a little, and gave him a grin. “Okay, okay, I get the point.”