The Rites of Life: New Life

By Liz Barry | Audio slideshow by Kim Raff

Luke arrived six days late.

For nine months, his parents, Jessica and Ian Kyle, expected him to arrive on Feb. 7. But Luke wasn’t ready.



Feb. 8 passed with no contractions. Same story the next three days.

On the morning of Feb. 12, the contractions began, but were too far apart for the Kyles to go to the hospital. One or two more days, the doctor told them.

That night, while Jessica was wandering the aisles of Barnes & Nobles on Wards Road, the contractions hit hard. Bags already packed, Ian drove her straight to Virginia Baptist Hospital through the pouring rain. They were there by 11 p.m.

At 9:45 a.m. on Feb. 13, Lukas Ian Kyle entered the world, a hearty 7 pounds, 2 ounces.

Now he’s barely 5 hours old, swaddled in a blue blanket in his father’s arms. Luke gazes at him through half-opened eyes. His face is splotchy pink, his fingers wrinkled.

“Try putting him on your shoulder,” Jessica says to Ian from the hospital bed.

“I don’t want his head to fall off,” Ian murmurs.

“They kind of intimidate me a little bit,” he says after a long pause.

Babies, that is.

Luke is the first child of Ian and Jessica, both Bedford-area natives. They attended the same middle school, but ran in different circles. The couple reconnected while students at Liberty University and married in May 2006. Now Ian, 26, is in seminary school at Liberty and Jessica, 25, is a nurse in Roanoke.

For the first time, their hospital room is quiet. Ian and Jessica are soaking up the first hours of Luke’s life.

The stark room has remnants from the swarm of family members who visited earlier. A silver balloon. A vase of blue carnations with a card that reads, “It’s about time.”

The parents haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. The baby is sleeping now, and has napped off and on since delivery.

Homeward bound

Luke is barely 50 hours old on the afternoon of Feb. 15 when it’s time to leave Mother Baby Unit 6. But not before the nurse gives his parents a rundown of what to expect during the first weeks, from how to give a sponge bath to the warning signs of postpartum depression.

As for typical infant behavior?

“Eat, sleep, pee, poop, cry. That’s pretty much it,” the nurse says with a chuckle.

Jessica signs the release forms and loads up the diaper bag. Ian plops the car seat onto the bed.

“Are you ready to go for your first ride?” Ian says.

Luke starts crying as he’s placed in the seat. He crinkles his beet-red face and splays his toes.

Arms entwined, Jessica and Ian poke and prod, adjusting the straps and nudging Luke’s limbs into place.

“That one’s just a little tight,” Jessica says. The baby wails. The parents fumble.

Snap. Snap. All buckled.

“There you go,” Jessica says as she bundles Luke with a blanket.

Home at last

At 3:25 p.m., Luke, asleep in his car seat, makes his entrance into his new home in Bedford County. His father rests the car seat on the kitchen counter. First on the agenda: diaper change.

That finished, Jessica breastfeeds Luke on the living room couch. Ian sinks in next to her, yawning deeply.

It’s quieter than usual. Something’s missing: the jangle of a collar and the scrape of claws on wood. The Kyles’ greyhound, Jimmy, is staying with family.

As Luke eats, the house is silent except for a ticking clock and the occasional gurgle.

After his meal, Luke is awake and alert. His grey eyes drift around the room. His toes clench and unclench.

“This is home now, little buddy,” Jessica says.

About an hour later, Ian’s mother, Elaine Kyle, arrives with a rotisserie chicken. Elaine holds her grandson as she and Jessica begin to rehash the delivery.

“The delivery, he did not like the delivery,” Jessica says, nodding toward her husband.

Ian chimes in. “It really did remind me of something out of ‘Alien’ or something.”

Elaine has a torrent of questions.

“How was the car ride home? Did he like the car?”

“Good, he slept all the way home,” Jessica says.

“Oh Mercy, such frowns!” Elaine says to the baby. “And how’s Mama?”

“OK, tired,” Jessica says.

Family time

Feb. 23. Luke’s been home for nine days and has already racked up some firsts:

First exposure to music (“Baby Einstein: Lullaby Classics,” a classical music CD for babies); first trip to the restaurant (Jersey Lily’s Roadhouse Grill in Roanoke); first TV show (“Miami Vice”); and first trip to the Wal-Mart parking lot. Jessica and Ian have decided to hold off on taking Luke to church until after flu season.

Luke will have more firsts today. He will meet three new relatives: his uncle, Aaron Moody, and his great grandparents, Betty and Howard Moody.

Around 3 p.m., the family starts to arrive.

Luke, face now clear of red splotches, wears a white Onesie and canary yellow booties. He’s passed around the room, with each family member taking a turn to coo and admire.

Jimmy, the greyhound, tries to claim center stage on the living room rug.

Luke is being rocked in the arms of Janice Moody, his maternal grandmother, who sits on the sofa. The dog’s not having it. The lanky greyhound pounces on the couch and peers at the baby before snuggling his long snout in Janice’s lap. The room erupts into chuckles.

After a few minutes, Janice is ready to pass Luke on. “Anyone want to hold him again?”

Howard Moody, Luke’s great-grandfather, chimes in. “Let me hold him a minute.”

This is the first time Howard has held Luke. He examines the tiny bundle, remarking on Luke’s hair, eyelashes, toes.

The final verdict: “Yes, he’s a Moody,” Howard says, laughing.

Late night

It’s March 3, and Luke is more than 2 weeks old. Yesterday, he had another first: a real bath in the tub, which resulted in much crying and fussing.

Just past 9:30 p.m., it’s almost bedtime for Mom and baby. Dad, the night owl, plans on catching the end of “Miami Vice.”

By 9:50, Luke is asleep in a brand new crib in the guest room turned nursery, which is now cluttered with baby gifts, diapers and stuffed animals. Luke usually sleeps for two to three hours between feedings. Jessica catches pockets of sleep whenever she can.

“Goodnight, Luke. See you in a couple hours when you wake up,” Jessica says.

Less than an hour later, Luke begins to wail. The pajama-clad Jessica emerges from her dark bedroom for another feeding. She cradles Luke on a cushioned rocking chair, dabbing his forehead with a damp paper towel to keep him awake.

The dog comes in to inspect for just a moment before turning back.

Jessica rocks back and forth, periodically rubbing Luke’s tiny earlobe with her thumb.

By 11 p.m., Luke is lulled to sleep by the electronic music of his mobile while Mom and Dad stand over the crib.

Ian and Jessica retire to the living room for what they hope will be two or three hours of quiet before Luke demands his next meal. This is the new rhythm of their lives. Luke’s needs set the terms now.

At 11:16 p.m., barely 15 minutes after his parents put him down, Luke starts crying again.