The admitting nurse at the hospital didn't even let me finish answering her questions. She looked at me and said, "Your mother can finish filling out this paperwork, I think we'll go ahead and send you upstairs to be checked." When Mom finished and got upstairs, the nurses were wheeling me out of the delivery room with my baby girl. We named her Alandra, but called her by the nickname Landy.
My daughter was everything I dreamed of. She was the beautiful, tiny baby my arms yearned to hold. She had long black hair and caramel colored skin. Her only resemblance to her Irish heritage was her deep blue eyes and black eyelashes. When I softly tickled her lower lip, her lip puckered and deep dimples appeared in each cheek.
I had just turned eighteen in April and had never been around babies before. Completely lacking any experience, I nevertheless accepted a life-long commitment to this tiny person I held in my arms. On that wonderful spring day when I brought Landy home, my elders were full of well-meaning advice that I eagerly accepted. My daughter was so beautiful and flawless that I wanted to be perfect for her as well. It was a comfort to know that I would have the support and experience of these women through the coming years.
Landy cried that day, and I couldn't figure out why. I had fed and changed her; she was warm without being too warm. I held her close, and everyone laughingly agreed that I would spoil my child for certain. My mother advised, "Sometimes babies just cry to exercise their lungs and you will have to let her cry." My grandmother said, "Maybe she does not like her hands tucked inside the sleeves of her gown." Willing to try anything to make Landy happy, I took her hands with her beautiful long fingers out and she stopped crying.
They told me to put her bassinet in the kitchen so she would get used to noise. Of course I followed their suggestion, although I'm sure it was really because they wanted to look at her and coo like all doting grandmothers--in this case three generations of grandmothers. Again their suggestions were good, and Landy slept soundly and peacefully. She didn't even stir in her tiny bed when we ran the garbage disposal as we cleaned the dishes left from our celebration. My grandmother even commented on that fact: "She is such a calm baby, all this racket isn't even making her flinch."