Father Foreshadowing

Yesterday, my niece fell asleep in my arms.

Her parents left her with me for the weekend, and we'd spent the day swimming and floating in the lake behind our house.

When we'd had enough, we came inside and I helped her change into dry clothes. I carried her downstairs and sat on the couch, her arms still around my neck.

Soon, her head dropped to my shoulder and her breathing changed to the sounds of sleep.

As the minutes went by, I tried to soak in the experience. "Some day she will be too big for this, and you will wish you could return to this moment again."

As she slept, I delighted in the feeling of being trusted by a child.

Eventually, she stirred. She opened her eyes and lifted her head from my shoulder.

"My head hurts," she said, and vomited massively onto both of us.

I ran with her to the nearby bathroom.

As I held her over the toilet, a quiet voice in my head said "Dear god. We are both covered in vomit. I need to change every item of clothing we are wearing. I can see bits of food stuck to my forearms and in her hair. The liquid spilled onto the couch, and it needs to be cleaned before it soaks into the cushions."

But instantly, a much stronger voice answered: "None of that matters. Just comfort her. Don't make her feel ashamed or guilty. Show her what it looks like to be calm in the face of surprising challenge. Show her that your love for her is unconditional."

I was filled with steadiness and calm. I rubbed her back, told her I was sorry she was sick, empathized with how bad it can feel to throw up. I carried her upstairs and showered us clean. Her teeth chattered when we got out, and my calm cracked as I felt a panicked rush to get her into dry clothes and warm again.

She threw up a few more times that night, and once in my car on the way back to her parents. My brother and sister-in-law apologized. For the mess, the aborted evening, the dirty car that I usually keep so clean.

I told them truthfully that it had actually felt kind of wonderful. My evening plans had collapsed into simplicity, into a certainty of what was right: simply caring for this child that I loved.

I have no children of my own yet, but I've always felt deeply paternal towards my niece and nephew. It was wonderful to see my fatherly instincts activate, my priorities immediately reordering, any squeamishness or need for order crushed under a wave of love and concern.

I've heard many fathers talk about the instant reorienting of their life when their child was born. I've never doubted this instinct lives in me, but I'm grateful to my niece for letting me feel it so viscerally.