So my last post was a bit of a cliff hanger, but I didn't know how to put that entire experience into one post and so I thank you for you patience. On September 2nd, 2011 my wife went into labour at 31 weeks gestation. We were transferred to Sunnybrook hospital and into a brand new birthing unit which was a blessing in disguise. When I arrived at the hospital, shortly after my wife (ok, I am not sure how shortly after it was, I had done the fatherly thing and picked up the camera and some food for the evening) I walked into the preparations for an epidural. We had talked about the possibility of this happening and as I have mentioned before, in all matters related to my wife's body I defer to her judgment. I was introduced to our nurse for the evening and helped provide comfort through the process.
Not long after (again, I caution those of you who have not experienced this that time is relative) we were waiting on a ultrasound to determine where are two little babies were. When the resident arrived she completed the ultrasound and checked how far along my wife was and low and behold, she was at 10 cm and ready to go. The whirlwind of activity that ensued was beyond any level of organization I have ever witnessed. The next thing I knew I was in an operating room surrounded by 10 very well trained medical people holding onto my camera, my wife's purse and some other bag, that I am not even sure was ours...but let's be honest, I was lucky that I still had all my clothes on given how fast thing were moving. During the rest of the actual birth I did my job. As is the case in crisis situations I have dealt with in the past, I relied on my training (thank god for "realities of childbirth"...even if we would miss the last two classes). Holding my wife's back as she pushed and struggled to deliver our two little bundles was an amazing experience. It is quite possible that I wasn't being overly helpful, and surrounded by all of those doctors and nurses, I am quite confident that my role was relatively small, but at that time, I felt like I was so connected to what was going on. All of the worries drifted away and all that mattered was that moment.
No matter how much preparation goes into the anticipation of hearing the first little cry, you will never be ready for the flood of emotions. Hearing that tiny little voice followed by the pronouncement "It's a boy!" made me feel more like a dad than all the months leading up to that point. We saw our first son for all of ten seconds before he was whisked away to a prep room for the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. We were able to see them on a cctv flat screen above our heads. Things were going well, he was small but breathing and our focus returned to pushing out the second little one. Again, time seemed to fly by and shortly after that the second little chirp and another announcement from the doctor "It's another boy!". Again, the quick show and tell and off he went to the back room. I stayed with my wife for a few moments and once I was given the all clear went to see my two boys as they were getting cleaned up for transfer to their new home.
Both were small 2.5 and just under 3lbs. Both were placed on CPAP, to control and support their breathing, and both were being carefully supported by a team of nurses. Pictures were taken, little hands were held, fingers and toes were counted...and then the happy mother was able to come and visit. The look of pride in her eyes brought tears to mine. We had done it...well she had done it. They had made it...or had they...What I am getting at here is the weird emotional roller-coaster of that day. Yes, there was a sense of relief...they were here and reasonably healthy...but at the same time we were worried. Worried about what was to come for them, for us and for our families. Similarly, I have never felt more unsure of the future and yet I was surprisingly okay with that. They were well taken care of and all we could do was wait...which would be the story of the next 6 weeks...but that's another post. We left to rest, the next time we would see our boys they would be downstairs in their little rooms hooked up to tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of equipment. The following three hours was spent with follow ups from doctors and nurses all of who did their best to set our minds at ease.
So my little men who are now at home safe and sound, I hope that when you read this you learn two things. Firstly, and perhaps selfishly I hope you realize what a miracle you are and how much we love you. I also hope you see how sometimes life seems to take you on a detour, and more often then not it seems to do so when you are traveling a hundred miles an hour. During these times you will experience a range of emotions, which many times will be conflicting. You will have a choice of tuning them out, numbing your senses and getting by. Or you can open yourself up to your emotions, let them take over your being and experience life to its fullest. I do not pretend to be solely in favour of the latter, at many times I have chosen to close myself off, to push down emotions and to focus on getting things done. However, I would suggest that the more you dare yourself to feel and truly let life impact you, the more connected you will be to yourself and those around you. So, while there will be times for either approach, but what is important is that you don't solely subscribe to one...even when it is difficult challenge yourself to live and feel every day.
Love, Dad
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