From Here to Maternity (6 page)

I decided to read the books Jess had left me. I opted for
Secrets of the Baby Whisperer
by Tracey Hogg –
How to Calm, Connect and Communicate With Your Baby.
I’d get to
The New Contented Little Baby Book
later. Right now I badly needed to calm and communicate.

I flicked through the first part until I got to the what-type-of-baby-you-have section. Angel baby – no; textbook baby – no such luck; touchy baby… yes! My God, it was as if the author was describing him in person. Ultrasensitive… flinches at loud sounds… cries for no apparent reason (Tell me something I don’t know, Tracey!)… has difficulty falling asleep… Tracey said that the touchy baby needed to be snuggled and you had to make a sound like sh-sh-sh so he thought it was the splashing of fluid in the womb. Hang on, I thought. Yuri’s been out of the womb for nearly eleven months. He won’t remember what it was like, and all he’s heard since we brought him home is sh-sh, but not because I was trying to re-create swooshy womb noises – because I was trying to get him to stop crying.

Mmmm. I flicked ahead in the book. Oooh, I like this bit. Tracey says that us new mums shouldn’t be hard on ourselves. She says we’re shocked, exhausted and frightened – too right I am, Tracey – and loving our babies takes time. Hurrah, I’m not alone.

I was feeling marginally better, when the phone rang. ‘Hi, how’s it going?’ asked Jess.

‘Actually, I’m finding it all a bit hard.’

‘Welcome to my world,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, it gets easier. Listen, I wanted to see if you’d be keen to join my mother-and-baby group. It’s just a few of the girls, and the babies range from three months to two years old, so Yuri will fit right in.’

I had met some of Jess’s baby-group friends before – Sonia and Maura. They were incredibly smug, and when I had told them I was in the process of adopting they had more or less implied that adoption would be like wearing someone else’s cast-off clothes and they could think of nothing worse than bringing up another person’s child. They kept telling me I was very brave. Did I really want to spend time with witches like them? Then again, maybe I’d found them so awful because I was sensitive at the time, and it’d be nice for Yuri to meet other kids: he probably missed his mates from the children’s home. Besides, they couldn’t all be like Maura and Sonia: the other mothers must be normal, or Jess wouldn’t still be going, would she? Also, maybe I’d pick up a few tips on how to bathe your child without social services calling round because they could hear him howling three miles away.

‘Um, yeah, OK. That sounds nice.’

‘Great By the way, did you read those books I left you?’

‘I’m actually in the middle of
The Baby Whisperer now.’

‘No, Sally you can’t watch
Shrek,
it’s nap time,’ said Jess, to her little daughter. It had always driven me mad when I called her and she spent half the time talking to me and the other half to her children. I never felt she was concentrating on the conversation.

‘Sorry, Emma.
The Baby Whisperer is
good, but if you want to get Yuri into a proper routine you need to follow Gina Ford’s
Contented Baby
book.’

‘OK, I’ll try to get to that later –
Stop,
Yuri,’ I squealed, as my little boy stuffed my lipstick up his nose. ‘Sorry, Jess, gotta go,’ I said, beginning to understand Jess’s distracted phone behaviour a little more each day.

I plonked Yuri and the ten million toys we had bought him into his playpen – I know some people don’t approve of them, but it was the only way I could get anything done and make sure he didn’t crawl into the fire or electrocute himself or something. After putting on the third wash of the day – how on earth could one child create so much laundry? No wonder poor old Mrs Walton looked so tired up there on Walton’s Mountain with no washing-machine and a brood of kids – I opened
The Baby Whisperer
and tried to find something about bathing your child.

I found it: a ten-step guide to bathtime. I’d been doing it all wrong. Tracey said you need a warm room and some nice music. Fill the bath two thirds full, only slightly warmer than body temperature, and then there was a complicated bit describing the correct way to hold and lower the baby… It was clear that I needed help for this, so I read on and waited for James to come home. He had gone out three hours previously, saying he was just popping down to the club to sort out some paperwork. He had sprung this on me while I was changing Yuri’s nappy and hightailed it out of the door before I could give him a list of things to do and buy.

When he finally arrived back I was waiting for him. ‘Right. Come on,’ I said, handing Yuri to him. ‘Bathtime.’

‘Any chance I could take off my coat first?’

‘You’ve been gone for four hours, during which I have managed to find a solution to the bath problem – not to mention washing clothes, feeding and changing Yuri and attempting to play stimulating games with him.’

‘How did they go?’

‘Disaster. He ignored me and sat chewing the cardboard box. Anyway, never mind that. Come on, upstairs,’ I said, and ushered him up to the bathroom. I had put on my favourite Norah Jones CD and turned the heating up so the bathroom was nice and warm. The scene was set. I handed James a list of pointers I’d copied from the book, and while the bath was filling I asked him to read me the instructions.

‘OK, place the palm of your right hand on Yuri’s chest and scissor your fingers so that three of them go under his left armpit and your thumb and index finger rest on his chest.’

‘Not so fast,’ I grumbled, trying to figure out the scissors manoeuvre as James leant over and prised my fingers apart. ‘Ouch, what are you trying to do – break my hand?’

‘You’re going to drop him. Do a proper scissors.’

‘I’m trying. Read on.’

‘Slide your left hand behind the back of his neck and shoulders and gently bend his body forward, transferring the weight of the body on to your right hand. Now place your left hand under his bum and lift.’

I was never very good at following instructions. I had that problem where if someone said go right, I went left. I had sat my driving test six times before they eventually took pity on me and passed me. When we had first met, James thought it was cute. But that wore off when we took a trip down to the west of Ireland where I kept telling him to turn right when I meant left. We ended up being stopped by the police for driving the wrong way down a one-way street. He went from finding it endearing to finding it mind-boggling – he simply couldn’t understand how someone could have difficulty differentiating between right and left. I said it was a curse I’d been born with and it was very cruel to be rude about someone’s shortcomings.

‘No, Emma.’ He sighed as I shuffled Yuri from right to left, trying to scissors my hands and hold him under the armpits, the back of the head and the bum. How the hell could I do all three? ‘Not left hand – right hand under his bum.’

‘I’m doing my best,’ I hissed, as Yuri’s lip began to wobble. ‘Please don’t cry, sweetheart, please. I’m trying here,’ I said, kissing his cheek as I almost dropped him in an arm-swap-scissors-style move.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ said James. ‘Why don’t you read the instructions and I’ll follow them? I think it’d be much wiser.’

‘No, I’ve got it now.’

‘Emma, if you put him in like that, he’ll drown.’

‘Oh, you and your stupid lefts and rights. Fine, take him and show me how easy it is, then,’ I snapped, and handed Yuri over.

James did some swift hand movements and suddenly Yuri didn’t look uncomfortable or miserable. ‘Read on,’ he said smugly, as I tried to hide my annoyance.

‘Yuri should be slumped over your right hand in a sitting position, bent forward and lightly perched on your left hand.’ Even reading my notes was confusing. Maybe I had copied the information down incorrectly. But when I looked up, James had Yuri in what appeared to be the right position.

‘Slowly lower him into the bath in the sitting position, feet first, and then transfer your left hand to the back of his head and neck to support him. Ease him into the water. Your right hand is now free and you should be able to wash him.’

I was frankly amazed to see that he had done exactly as I told him and Yuri was sitting in the bath – not exactly looking ecstatic to be there but not crying either. James smiled. ‘Piece of cake, darling. All you need to do is concentrate on the instructions. Pass me the sponge.’

I wanted to ram it up his condescending nose, but decided not to upset Yuri’s first bath. ‘I’ll wash him. You just make sure he doesn’t lurch backwards – and stop being so damn smug.’

‘It’s really not difficult. The instructions are foolproof. You’ll get the hang of it.’

‘Are you implying that I’m a fool?’ I snapped, while softly sponging water over Yuri’s hair.

‘Of course not. Following instructions is just something men are better at. Mind his ears.’

‘I am minding his ears. Just hold him steady.’

‘Mind his eyes,’ said the ever-helpful, self-appointed expert.

‘Will you please stop telling me what to do? I’m the one who read the bloody book and wrote down the instructions while you were shuffling papers at the office.’

‘Language, darling,’ said James, choosing this of all moments to remind me that we had agreed never to curse in front of Yuri.

‘You annoying, irritating, infuriating –’

‘And Daddy loves Mummy too, Yuri,’ said James, kissing me mid-tirade. ‘Particularly when she gets all hot and bothered and rants at him for reminding her of the non-cursing rule she insisted upon.’

Yuri was clearly unimpressed and whimpered so I decided to quit while we were ahead. ‘OK, lift him out slowly and I’ll wrap the towel round him.’

James lifted Yuri out, talking to him as he did, reassuring him that it was over. I wrapped the warm towel round his little body and he gurgled as James rubbed his back.

James let the water out of the bath while I got Yuri dressed. He looked so sweet in his stripy pyjamas, and as I held him to me, inhaling the scent of body lotion, he snuggled into my neck and I felt a surge of love – it was almost an ache. James looked around and smiled at us.

‘I’m sorry for being such a grumpy old cow, but you know how frustrated I get about lefts and rights. It’s like a handicap and I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of it and I’ll never be able to give him a bath on my own and it’s just ridiculous because I’m his mother,’ I said, getting upset at the thought of my endless failings.

‘Emma, it’s all right. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll do it together until you get the hang of it. However, you might have mentioned that you were handicapped before we got married – a fellow should know these things before he says, “I do.” ’

Chapter 7

A few days later, James, Yuri and I were sitting in Dr Liz Costello’s surgery. She was the paediatrician who had reviewed the video of Yuri we had received before our first visit to Russia. After studying it and looking at his medical records, she had told us that as far as she was concerned he seemed like a healthy little boy – small for his age, but a lot of children who had been institutionalized were underweight. His senses appeared to be in good working order and he seemed alert. We had been reassured enough to go to Russia and accept Yuri as our match, so she seemed like the perfect person to consult now that Yuri was home.

James and I watched her examine him.

‘All his bits are in the right place,’ she said, smiling, as a naked Yuri wriggled about under her touch. ‘Head circumference proportional to body… responds well when spoken to… seems very alert… good movement, good muscle mass. OK, I’m going to check him now for a range of conditions.’

‘Like what?’ I asked, suddenly anxious. Although Yuri looked fine, he might have some hidden disease: the social workers had warned us of this possibility, but I had blocked it from my mind.

‘Anaemia, strabismus, rickets and HIV, hepatitis A and C. I’ll need to draw some blood. James can you hold him steady for me?’

James held Yuri’s skinny little chicken leg, while Dr Costello cleaned his heel with alcohol, then punctured it with a sterile needle. She collected a blood sample, then covered the scratch with a plaster. The brave little soldier didn’t even cry: his eyes just widened and his face went a shade paler. James picked him up and soothed him when it was over.

‘Good boy,’ said the doctor, patting Yuri’s head. Then, turning to me, she said, ‘We’ll send the blood sample to be analysed. I’ll know more in a few days. The main problem with children from Russia tends to be based around their diet. The orphanages simply can’t provide a balanced one. Often the milk is diluted, lessening the concentration of nutrients. Vitamin D and iron are consistently missing. But don’t worry yourselves until we have the results. He looks well anyway, although you two are clearly tired. You look particularly peaky, Emma. How are you feeling?’

I told her I was pregnant and that most food made me want to throw up at the moment, but I was sure it’d pass once I got over the three-month mark. It felt strange to talk about my pregnancy. It still didn’t feel real. I was so preoccupied with Yuri that sometimes I forgot about it.

‘It’s important that you get plenty of rest. The first trimester is key. How many weeks are you?’

‘I’m not sure – I think about eleven.’

‘You really should go and see your obstetrician for a scan. I’ll have these blood-test results for you in three days. I’m closing the surgery for Christmas week, so I’ll let you know Yuri’s diagnosis before then. Now, go home and try to get some rest. Happy parents equal happy babies.’

We bundled Yuri up and left, feeling nervous but strangely reassured. The blood tests would show up any horrid illnesses that he might have, but Dr Costello had said he looked healthy, so hopefully he would be OK. James went off to supervise a training session and I decided to call in to my mother. ‘Helloooo,’ she cooed, as she lifted Yuri out of my arms at the front door. ‘How’s my little grandson today?’

Yuri beamed up at her. I had to confess she was brilliant with him and he seemed to adore her. ‘Now, let’s take off your coat. Lord, what was your mummy thinking dressing in you in those clothes? She must have been half asleep,’ continued Mum. I bristled: I’d spent ages choosing a nice outfit for Yuri to wear to the doctor’s. I thought he looked adorable in his little Baby Gap hoodie. When he was settled in his high chair, she turned her attention to me. ‘Well, how are you, pet?’ Before I could answer, she did it all by herself. ‘You look awful – big black sacks under your eyes and as pale as a ghost. You need your rest, Emma. You have to look after yourself now that you’re pregnant.’