great joy

Tomorrow’s my last day on the newborn service; I’m gonna be sad to leave. Every day there was like being in the middle of a hopeful prayer. It’s such a beautiful honor to witness some of the absolute first moments another person spends in the world.

One amazing thing about working with newborn babies is that you just can’t be down for long. I knew a resident in San Francisco who visited the newborn nursery and held a brand-new baby every time a patient died. These last few weeks, every time I’d feel exhausted, frustrated, or like the dumb new intern who doesn’t know anything, I’d pick up a baby and hold them by a big window that looks out onto the mountains. Babies are so scrawny and wrinkly—some of them are downright reptilian-looking, really—and we think they are so beautiful! It’s an amazing thing to remember, the enormous capacity our hearts have, how much we can overlook if we put the big things where they belong.

Something awesome that happened was that one of the brand-new parents told me she wanted me to be her little one’s doctor, so they’re gonna come see me in clinic next week! I’ve had people say they wanted me to be their doctor before (to which I’ve always responded with, “Really? Are you sure?” or, “I’m not really a doctor yet…”), but this was the first time that I could say, “Great! Come see me in clinic next week!”

I’m so excited to watch this one grow. Yay!

One of the first days I was working there, I was holding a baby after I’d finished examining her, and her eyes popped open and she looked straight into my eyes and I realized I was one of the very first human beings this little person had ever had eye contact with. I felt a huge sense of responsibility that I still can’t fully explain: commitment as a person and a doctor to be fully present in the lives of the people who share their intimate, sacred parts with me; a renewed sense of devotion to the world around me, a reminder to keep plugging away, step by step, toward justice and respect for those of us who are here.

I think there’s a reason I got to start my life as a doctor here, with all these brand-new perfect little people. I think it was a gift for my spirit, and I am so grateful. Recently I’ve been remembering a christening my brother and I stumbled upon a couple of weekends ago when he was here visiting. The priest, a gigantic man with a barelly voice and hands as big as dinner plates, took up the baby and said, “God has welcomed you into this world with great joy!” Without realizing it, I’ve been thinking those words toward the new babies every time I pick one up to check for sacral dimples or listen for murmurs. I hope I can keep this blessing central with all of my patients: the crotchety old ones, the apathetic preoccupied ones, the ones who are like most of us: too sick and tired and old to be flawlessly beautiful anymore. God has welcomed you into this world with great joy, I hope to remind myself, about each and every one.