A Birthday Surprise
Five years ago today, I got a big surprise for my birthday -- my son William arrived a month early. Because he was so early, the doctors and nurses wisked him off to the neonatal intensive care unit. He was just fine, we were told. His lungs just needed a little help because they weren't quite taking in enough oxygen, but this wasn't unusual (especially for a boy). He likely would be out of intensive care in a couple of days.
Two weeks later he was still there. It was not an easy two weeks. My wife, a worrier by nature and subject to the emotional supercharging experienced by mothers after giving birth, was able to imagine an extraordinary assortment of possible negative outcomes. William's big brother Madison, age 6 at the time, was just mad. He was absolutely furious to the point of tears at the "big stupids" running the hospital who wouldn't allow him to hold his baby brother. After all, he had already decided months ago that he would be the first person to hold the baby and now they wouldn't even let him in the room to see him! (It is good that 6 year-olds are not allowed to be king -- a lot of hospital workers would have been sent to the dungeon or worse.)
The nurses and doctors who work every day in neonatal intensive care units are really special people. Of all the babies in there, William really was in the best shape. It took his lungs a little longer than expected to adapt, but they eventually did and he has been fine ever since. Most of the other babies were not so lucky. My wife and I were at the hospital just about every waking moment. Some of the tiniest little preemies and crack babies never had a visitor while we were there. Many would have to be there for months and months. Some never make it home.
One day they brought in a new baby. His father was surprisingly calm and seemed to know everyone. A nurse explained later that his first child had been in the ICU for eleven months. They'd finally been able to take him home a few months earlier and now their second baby was there. Unbelievable.
And today William is five years old. He got a new bike for his birthday and he's all excited about his birthday party.
Just as I did for Madison when he was small, I tell William a bedtime story every night after his mother or I read to him. And William, like his brother, likes it best when I make up a new one for him. Sometimes, especially when it has been a long day, coming up with another new idea for children's story seems hard. At times like that, I remind myself that somewhere out there some father in a neonatal ICU is desperately praying for a chance to be able to tell a bedtime story some day to his tiny baby struggling to breathe. And I realize that thinking up another story is really pretty easy. In fact, it is a wonderful blessing. Just like William.
Happy birthday William! Daddy loves you.
[infinity times infinity, forever and ever, no matter what!]
Two weeks later he was still there. It was not an easy two weeks. My wife, a worrier by nature and subject to the emotional supercharging experienced by mothers after giving birth, was able to imagine an extraordinary assortment of possible negative outcomes. William's big brother Madison, age 6 at the time, was just mad. He was absolutely furious to the point of tears at the "big stupids" running the hospital who wouldn't allow him to hold his baby brother. After all, he had already decided months ago that he would be the first person to hold the baby and now they wouldn't even let him in the room to see him! (It is good that 6 year-olds are not allowed to be king -- a lot of hospital workers would have been sent to the dungeon or worse.)
The nurses and doctors who work every day in neonatal intensive care units are really special people. Of all the babies in there, William really was in the best shape. It took his lungs a little longer than expected to adapt, but they eventually did and he has been fine ever since. Most of the other babies were not so lucky. My wife and I were at the hospital just about every waking moment. Some of the tiniest little preemies and crack babies never had a visitor while we were there. Many would have to be there for months and months. Some never make it home.
One day they brought in a new baby. His father was surprisingly calm and seemed to know everyone. A nurse explained later that his first child had been in the ICU for eleven months. They'd finally been able to take him home a few months earlier and now their second baby was there. Unbelievable.
And today William is five years old. He got a new bike for his birthday and he's all excited about his birthday party.
Just as I did for Madison when he was small, I tell William a bedtime story every night after his mother or I read to him. And William, like his brother, likes it best when I make up a new one for him. Sometimes, especially when it has been a long day, coming up with another new idea for children's story seems hard. At times like that, I remind myself that somewhere out there some father in a neonatal ICU is desperately praying for a chance to be able to tell a bedtime story some day to his tiny baby struggling to breathe. And I realize that thinking up another story is really pretty easy. In fact, it is a wonderful blessing. Just like William.
Happy birthday William! Daddy loves you.
[infinity times infinity, forever and ever, no matter what!]
posted by Stan at 9:23 AM
2 Comments:
That was beautiful! My little man was on the other side in Neonatal ICU because he was overdue and got Marcunium induced phnumonia. I had the almost 9 lb baby looking like a giant beside the premeeies and like you could not fathom the babies left to languish without visits from thier parents. i was lucky and was in Germany and they actually put a bed in the room with him for me so I could sleep there with him and be there for even the nightly feedings.
Happy Birthday William!
Happy birthday William!
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