One Innie, Please

May 17th, 2013

I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know how belly buttons were created. When Trish and I were discussing baby things before Max was born, I told her that I wanted to make sure the doctor knew that I wanted Max to have an “Innie.”  Trish, trying her best to save my feelings, told me that it wasn’t up to us; that Max’s “Bee-Bo” would become an innie or outie by itself. I can’t help but laugh at my naiveté.

At his one-month checkup, his pediatrician said that it was getting close to coming off so we were keeping an eye on it.  We were visiting my parents during Thanksgiving at their home in Sedona, and Max was almost exactly one month old. His little umbilical stub was still stubbornly attached, and I wondered… Innie or Outie?

One of Max’s hungry cries woke us up at 2 or 3 a.m. (I can’t remember now) but I do remember it was my shift. (As a side-note, Trish generally takes the 10pm-2am shift, and I take the 2-6am shift.) So, it was my turn when Max’s wail brought me out of slumber.

I groggily grabbed his changing bag, a bottle of milk, and headed out into the dark living room to leave Trish dreaming away. Max needed to be changed so I laid him out on the marble seating area surrounding the fireplace, and got to changing him.  As I was swapping diapers, I heard a patter of a small object falling, but in the dim light I couldn’t see what it was, assuming something fell out of his changing bag. (You’ve probably guessed it by now, huh?)

With Max now clean, dry, stuffed with milk, and passed out cold, I headed back to bed.

The next morning, I was changing him again and to my surprise I noticed his belly was nice and smooth with no umbilical nub! I checked his onsie and sleep-sack and couldn’t find the nub.  Then a small bell rung in my memory, and sure enough… Max’s little umbilical cord nub was lying on the fireplace surround.

Smiling, I showed Trish. Our little boy had what I had originally ordered: The most adorable “innie” I’ve ever seen.