Having a baby means a new orientation to sound. To guarantee a sleeping baby, silence is golden. Like anything new, learning to be quiet takes time. This adjustment is hard for George, who has a naturally large voice and projects like the actor he is. I have my share of missteps too. I consistently forget to turn off the phone. It only seems to ring when she’s sleeping. And there’s the uncanny noise that happens just when she’s nodded off. George sneezing. The button on the side of my skirt brushing up against the dresser drawer I forgot to close. Tiny missteps end in tragic results. Sometimes I just sit frozen, daring not to make a move and threaten the peace. But then there are sounds you have no control over. It’s hard to get away from police sirens in New York City. Hand gestures are a poor method of communication, but George and I have gotten better at pantomime. Maybe it will come in handy for charades someday. We’ve begun sending emails to each other from different laptops in the same room. I am not of the generation who sits in class and texts one another, but I imagine it’s similar. The most ironic part is that Claire has had a loud piercing scream since taking her first breath. Essentially we keep quiet so she won’t be loud. It’s doubtful that this tactic will work when she’s a teenager.
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