Reassurance

Everybody wants a little reassurance from time to time. For new parents and infants, though, it's a commodity in especially high demand. And the three of us have found it, happily, in a variety of places over the past few days.

For Lisa, a brief e-mail to the pediatrician lightened our modest concerns about a slight rash on Cleo's forehead. Turns out it's neonatal acne, a common and benign condition that affects most babies at some point. And it turns out, too, that our doctor really does read his e-mail, as he'd said he does, and he gets back to nervous parents quickly. A small relief, as every day seems to bring small symptoms, slight changes, or new behaviors, and we scramble to adjust, to process, to identify.

For Cleo, of course, the whole world must seem consistently confounding or vexing. Not knowing that one has two legs, or not being able to identify the feeling of hunger (let alone being able to feed oneself), has to be frustrating. We try to reassure her by speaking softly, by carrying her comfortably, and by trying to identify the quality of her voice when she does cry. "Everything's okay," we tell her, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, but in time we assume that she'll learn that we're at least trying to help, even if we can't always read her cries.

And, as I've driven her various north Baltimore neighborhoods over the past two weeks, so that we can get out the stroller and really roll, I've found reassurance in the wonderfully composed, placid, and seemingly unflappable announcers on WBJC, our local classical music station. In accents that always carry at least a tinge of the Old World, the announcers calmly tell me that "It's seven minutes past one and in this hour the Queensland Orchestra will play Karl Maria von Weber's first symphony..." Or, yesterday, that "right now in Baltimore it's 79 degrees." There is no ambiguity, and there are no mispronunciations, colloquialisms, or sudden surprises; rather, the world is simplified and comprehensible, and revolves around nothing more complex than a playlist.

New parents, we're at sea in unfamiliar waters. But it's nice to know that there are other boats in the area, lanterns on their masts, willing to help.