How Not to Bathe a Baby
A new dad’s guide to panic, prayer, and the surprisingly helpful advice of ChatGPT
This is already the second time I’ve freaked out over the idea that I may have hurt my daughter in her short existence. The thought of harming her makes me feel physically ill. That’s obviously a good thing, but it’s also led to some borderline madman behavior on my part when I make, or even think I’ve made a mistake that could hurt her. One night, for example, I was interested in why rocking your baby helps them go to sleep so I started Googling. Rookie error. Especially at night. Three hours and several doctor-led YouTube rabbit holes later, I finally convinced myself she didn’t have brain damage—although I might have given some to myself.
This time around I did make a mistake. I got a bath ready for my little girl. It was really hot so I let it sit, even threw in some ice cubes. I periodically dipped in my fingers and, as the hospital had advised us during her first bath, dipped in my elbow to test the temperature. Satisfied I’d done my due diligence, I got her ready and placed her in the water. I soon realized the water was far too hot, she started to cry.
I scooped her out, and wrapped her in a towel but it was too late. She was inconsolable, and her skin had gone bright red. I started to panic. What had I done? What do I do? Who do I call? My wife had gone to the hairdresser for the first time since giving birth and an hour into her being gone I’d injured our daughter.
I tried to console her, but I was losing it myself. Do I call her pediatrician? Do I call 911? I grabbed my phone like a man summoning a digital oracle, turned ChatGPT to voice mode and asked it what to do to help her as a first response while I tried to dry her. It told me to run some lukewarm water over her and contact a medical professional. I rushed to the shower with her.
The water poured over us and she started to relax. She likes the feeling of the water gently dripping on her, and it must have felt soothing. But her skin was still bright red, and I was really starting to freak out. Had I burnt her entire body? I had visions of her being scarred for life. Babies have such sensitive skin, I couldn’t just start putting random creams on her. I jumped out of the shower covering the tiles with water and went in search of the pediatrician’s number.
A machine answered, this was an after hours line, I should call the clinic during normal hours. Super helpful, why would it not automatically forward to the regular clinic instead of giving a long story. The slow calm recording on the end of the line was further sending me into panic as I anxiously waited for the correct number to call. “Ahhhhh” I screamed in frustration, dialing the clinic.
They picked up and I start yelling like a lunatic about speaking to a pediatrician at once. The cell phone reception from our home is not the greatest, and the periodic screaming from my daughter was not helping. I was now playing broken telephone with the person on the end of the line, trying to get them to understand my problem. I finally get on the phone with a nurse who tells me to do exactly the same thing ChatGPT just said! They advise that there are some creams that I can get to put on her later and not to pop any blisters, I make an appointment for them to check her over. I unleash some colorful language while waddling naked through a puddle-soaked apartment, back into the shower, phone in hand.
I call my wife from the shower, she has dye still setting in her hair. She calls to the stylist to get it out, she’s got to go! As I get off the phone I start to pray. Loudly. Some of it singing, some of it gibberish, all of it desperate. I pray for help to calm down so I can do the right thing, but mostly I pray for her to be healed. My girl stops crying and settles, watching me with those big beautiful eyes. Her skin starts to return to its normal colour.
Now the doubter in me knows I overreacted. That she just got a fright from the heat and I lost my cool. But the Jesus lover in me is convinced God intervened. That He healed her. That he saved her from my mistake. Call me a loon as I step down from my soap box, but God stepped in through my weakness.
The good news is, she is completely unharmed. But I learnt a few lessons from this scare.
Mistakes happen quickly—and often without warning.
Always mix the bath water before retesting.
I’d rather overreact a hundred times than under-react once and she gets hurt.