Snatch Theft

It's amazing how much difference a day's leave makes.

Tomorrow marks my 7th(24-hour) call of the month. It doesn't take a genius to do the math and figure out the frequency of my calls up to now. Granted, I'm getting several days off at Christmas, but it is still exhausting to keep up this pace of work.

Having today off somehow boosted my energy levels. I decided to experience first-hand the reactions of Hannah's fans (i.e. market ladies) after hearing all about it from her grandparents. Little was I prepared for what was to happen later.

It all started off pretty tamely with curious looks and a few regulars saying hi and making faces at Hannah. When we approached the usual fruit seller, I noticed she had signs suggesting a previous heart sugery and instantly felt I should be nicer to her. Why? I won't do a psychoanalysis at this point; let's just say it was an involuntary emotion.

So, I coaxed Hannah into throwing a few smiles in her direction, which she did, winningly. But the fruit lady did two things which left me speechless, one more so than the other.

"She doesn't look like you at all."

Unfortunately, women have the habit of reading between the lines, often coming up with the most unflattering conclusions. To me, after praising Hannah and fussing over her, saying something like that to the person holding her was almost like saying:

"You're ugly, are you sure this beautiful baby belongs to you, or are you the maid?"

I don't know, perhaps after seeing Hannah morning after morning for the past few weeks, she was expecting a more angelic human specimen as her mother. So perhaps she was surprised to finally meet Hannah's mother - plain old me.

Trying not to take offense, since probably none was meant in the first place, I smiled and allowed my parents to make the appropriate responses. However, I was shocked by what she did next.

As we were about to leave, she stopped us, quickly put away a few things, stepped away from her counter and came up right next to me and stretched out her hands to Hannah. Now, I have never met this lady in my life, and I don't know how well my parents know her since I was convinced she had just overcharged us for the bananas. I kept Hannah close to me.

Sensing my reluctance to release the baby, she slid her hands under Hannah's arms, saying: "Let me carry her!" and literally snatched the baby from my arms.

My heartbeat must have doubled instantly, and I don't know how my parents could have continued smiling. Hannah must have read my body language and her face crumpled within seconds, although those seconds felt like forever. I quickly took her back, but the lady continued to stay by my side and started touching Hannah's hands, even rolling up Hannah's long sleeve to look at goodness-knows-what.

Although it has been several hours since the incidence, the scene keeps playing back as though I am suffering from PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). What if someone with less innocent intentions had done that? What was to stop this lady from running away, disappearing into the crowds of the busy market?

How can anyone claim such familiarity and forcefully remove a baby from her mother's arms?

It's just outrageous.

Even if I consider her actions rude and unacceptable, there will probably be more people like her. How do I say NO? Politely, of course. And what if some people won't take no for an answer, like this lady for instance? Should I have just forcefully taken my baby back, at the risk of having expensive bananas for the rest of my life?

It's awful. Now I'm left wondering what happens every morning (when I am away at work) when my parents do their usual market rounds. Although we have all agreed that no stranger should ever be allowed to carry Hannah, the situation this morning was a little tricky, since the fruit lady was not exactly a total stranger.

Call me stuck up if you like, (since I know of parents who would happily let anyone carry their babies, at any time) but letting almost complete strangers hold a small helpless baby IS courting trouble.

I've completely changed my mind about my cousin's baby who cries whenever someone other than the immediate family carries her. It's not fussy behaviour, but smart behaviour. It's the only protection against these 'snatch thieves'.