Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
wait in the waiting room. I was still in a daze and found that I needed to wipe away a stream
of tears from my eyes. It was by far the most shocking yet beautiful thing I had ever ex-
perienced, and I was stunned and touched emotionally in places I never knew I had. I am a
cold person I think, by and large, but witnessing the birth of my boy was a ground-moving
experience I will never forget.
Later I was called back to Judi's bed in the maternity ward, and she and Dylan were getting
acquainted. They looked so natural, and my son Dylan was now pink, small, and decidedly
cute. “He is so tiny!” I exclaimed. “How are you doing, my love?” I asked as I bent to
kiss her. She looked as tired and exhausted as she said she did, and soon the young nurse
appeared and said I was to leave and let Dylan's mom rest. She squeezed my hand, and I
let go Dylan's tiny little paw that was clinging tightly to my finger, slowly backing away,
smiling and waving.
Judi remained in the ward for a number of days, and I would visit her each day, armed with
flowers. She complained of great depression and wanted to go home so badly. I knew noth-
ing about postnatal depression then, but she had been told about it before, yet could find no
comfort in that. Dylan's condition was excellent, and he was a very healthy, happy baby,
gurgling away with his new life.
I had to get back to the business and resume work, and Judi finally came home with our
new son. She had so many visiting friends stop by to see her and the baby and to wish her
well. I never had to worry about her being alone too long. The sisterhood took great care of
her.
When they opened for the first time, we were both overwhelmed by Dylan's large, impos-
sibly blue eyes, which had a smile of their very own! Indeed, between his impish, young
grin and his laughing blue saucers and tousled white hair, he was irresistible. So found all
the ladies at the supermarket when we wheeled him about in his crib in the cart. It would
take but five short minutes before he was recognized and was soon invisible with the ring
of cooing, laughing, admiring women, some known to us and a string of others that we did
not know. I stood aside, glowing proudly, as they cast glances at me and back to Dylan,
comparing looks and eyes. “Yes, he does have his dad's eyes and then some!” They would
say. He now had a mop of yellow hair, and he was just the most gorgeous little baby boy;
we were both so proud of him as we paraded him about.
Life was at its best then. Upon the arrival of this little blessing, our business was doing
well and expanding; we had two nice cars and lots of great caring friends. Déjà vu was sail-
ing like a star, and Judi and I were very content. We would go for long rambles along the
gentle slopes of Table Mountain through the great oak forests and sweet, hot smelling pines
that whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves. I would carry Dylan, who was now
