One of the many material obsessions I had early on in my pregnancy was finding the perfect glider or rocking chair for Lili’s room. Every Mom I talked to said regardless if you were a rocking chair style person or not this item was crucial for comfort during midnight feedings. They were right.
I kept hitting a brick wall when it came to finding a glider I liked. They were all white and ‘country style’ and ugly complete with fabrics that looked like they belonged on the floor of a Vegas casino rather then the interior of a baby’s nursery. Others were huge and expensive pieces of modern furniture which for some were great but also not our still but mostly not in our budget.
After combing the internet for months I came across a halfway decent but still gross glider (not gross dirty but gross in the least offensive/ugly department). It was white with a light blue cushion seat and ottoman. At that point I was 9 months pregnant and frankly sick of thinking about it anymore.
I contacted the owner on Craigslist. He was a Dad to a now toddler and responded right away. A quick google search (am I the only one who does this?) revealed the Dad’s name was linked to several books as Professor of Communications to a local college and author of several books on the television industry. He offered to drive the glider over to our apartment one day mid-day after hearing I was 9 months pregnant.
When he arrived he had a warm and familiar face. I also recall that although he had a toddler parked right outside in the car he offered to run up the glider the one flight of stairs to my apartment. I told him my husband would be home later and not to worry about it and to leave it in the front hall. Cash was exchanged. After a small pause he looked at the glider one more time saying,
“We had a lot of luck with this glider. A lot of nice nights rocking our child. I hope you have the same.”
The next day I received a follow up email from the Dad after the purchase. He said it was nice meeting me and he hoped I enjoyed the glider and good luck with the baby. This happens to me a lot. The follow up. Once I bought a kitten from a woman on Long Island. After a month she contacted me again to follow up. Check in. How was the cat? Did it like it’s new home? I humored her with a few kitten stories and we hung up. A high school friend once said to me it was something about my face - specifically my eyes - that made people feel nostalgic when they met me. Who knows.
The week before Lili was born I wasn’t sleeping much. In the middle of the night I would go into her room and sit in the dark in the glider ‘talking’ to her (not knowing she was a she at the time) reassuring her that everything was ready for her when she was ready to come out. At the time it was early December. The room was a tad chilly with an old clanking on and off Brooklyn radiator hissing. Outside a neighbor had installed a sensory overload style set of Christmas decorations complete with a blinking reindeer blasting a dying Casio keyboard loop of Christmas carols.
Tonight during our 2AM feeding I was reminded of those nights before Lili came. The unknown. Before I knew what it truly felt like to hold and rock a small baby, somewhat limp and tired so close to me in the middle of the night. And how most kids can sleep through practically anything when tired - even off-key Christmas carols - when being rocked to sleep.
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