By the birth of my second daughter (now twelve), you would think I'd have known what to bring to the hospital. But when it came time to bring her home, I had to admit I had not brought any baby clothes. It was as if I had entirely forgotten that I would be coming home with a new person, and that she would need clothes.
The hospital that week was wrapping all the babies in receiving blankets someone had donated. It was July, but the blankets were printed with Santa and reindeer. Every baby in the place was wrapped like this. My husband told the staff we had forgotten baby clothes. It was a sheepish admission. He asked if we could just bring our baby home wrapped in one of the Christmas blankets. We lived a long drive from the hospital. It did not occur to either myself or my husband to go out and buy some baby clothes. I don't know what we were thinking.
The staff was not happy about his request. They were happy about having just received this big donation of blankets and were not in a hurry to see their supply begin to dwindle almost immediately. It took my husband several requests before someone said we could bring our baby home wrapped in one. They made him promise we would bring the blanket back to the hospital. So he promised, but of course we never did bring it back, because we are hospital criminals, in the same way that we are library criminals.
The other memory, now that I think about it, might not be so entertaining. Maybe people will think it's nasty. You know how childbirth can get. Maybe I'll leave that one for another time and place...