Wednesday 8 May 2013

Baby born


The photo is of my dad in a hospital armchair, with his bald head and branded glasses, cradling his newborn granddaughter in his arms. Isla Blue is born at 10.30pm on Monday August 13. “Mother and baby ‘doing fine’”, as the text to the vague extended family says.

My dad is holding the baby and in the midday sun the two windows behind them are blocks of pure white light.

My dad is wearing a plain lemon yellow t-shirt and new-looking black trousers. Smart. He is in a classic male baby-holding posture, slave to an old unspoken rule: arms forming an awkward cradle, shoulders hunched, looking down at the tremulous pink bundle in his arms with the blank curiosity of, well, a child. 

Under her miniscule body, his hands look enormous: another-species big. Less than 24 hours old, dressed in a pink bodysuit, wearing white mittens, Isla is a glowing perfection in blinding summer light. 

This is my niece, my niece in white mittens.

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