Life Lesson for My Little Men #7

Living with our twin boys at the hospital for the first six weeks of their lives is an experience that I will never forgot and that I am sure has had and will continue to have a profound impact on my life.  First of all, as I have mentioned before, the tireless work of the folks in the NICU is beyond compare and not something that I could ever express enough gratitude for.  Secondly, it truly opened my eyes to how fast we can settle into a routine and yet when something comes along to throw a wrench in it, how crushing that can be.  Over the course of the six weeks, our boys experienced ups and downs, they made leaps forward and took steps back and it was challenging to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  What complicated this was the great steps they took forward in the first few days.  Regardless of what you think you know as a parent in these situations, you can't help but be excited to see them doing so well so quickly and then with the first setback reality quickly crashes down around you and you realize this is a marathon and not a sprint and that they won't be home in a matter of days, but possibly weeks or months.  The scariest of these setbacks with our boys related to their breathing.  Lungs are the last thing to really develop and because they were born at just under 32 weeks, they struggled to breath on their own from the very beginning.  No words can really express the heartbreak that you feel upon returning to the hospital to see your child hooked back up to a C.P.A.P. machine because of a bad spell the night before.

 One of the most challenging experiences came at the end of our stay at Sunnybrook.  As I mentioned before it is amazing how fast you settle into a routine and we had established something that worked for us.  Then one day you arrive at the hospital and are told that today is the day...not that you will get to take them home but that they are being transferred to a level 2 NICU and you immediately spiral into shock and are wretched by disappointment.  Again the rollercoaster ride took over and you feel glad and appreciative that your babies are doing well enough to be transferred but dismayed that your routine has been disrupted.  All kinds of questions surface:  What do we do to get there?(we are a one car family so that had its challenges)  What kind of facility is this?  When can visitors come?  Do we need to return the breast pump?  What are the Doctors like?  Where can we get something to eat? Where is the NICU? and many more...and truthfully, the staff at Sunnybrook could help with some but not many of these questions.  This process happened very quickly for us.  We knew that both our boys were getting stronger and were warned that we could be transferred soon, but never dreamed it would happen in less than 24 hours.  Later that evening, we packed up our stuff...The boys were packed into an ambulance and off they went to Newmarket.  At this point, we are feeling like the rug has been pulled out from under us.  The blessing of staying at Sunnybrook had now turned into a bit of a curse as my describes it, you feel like you are going from a Bentley to a 1991 Honda Accord.  Reflecting on it now, we wouldn't be so harsh. 

Our stay at the NICU in Newmarket was only two weeks but we got to know the nursing staff well and soon overlooked the difference in the physical facility as our boys continued to grow stronger.  We now shared a ward room with several other parents and so at times it was nice to see others who were going through our same struggles.  As things built to our final day in the hospital, we settled into a new routine and life carried on.  So, to my now strong little men who are keeping us up at night the lesson learned from our experience is this:  routine is nice, however, if you are so set in a routine that you are afraid to try new things you will lose out on some of life's greatest experiences.  There is something safe about knowing where you are going, what you are doing and how you are going to get there, but with each new day we have an opportunity to try something different, meet somebody new and open ourselves up to the possibility that the world around us is full of wonderful things if we open our eyes.  Always take time to evaluate a new situation or circumstance, as the old saying goes "you can't judge a book by its cover."  Only by truly allowing yourself to be open to new possibilities will you get to see the true value in your life.

Life Lesson for My Little Men #6

So it has taken me a while to write about the first 72 hours of my boys lives.  For a while I have struggled to recall details with little to no success.  Truthfully, I was completely overwhelmed with the entire experience and so details kind of went out the window.  Upon reflection, what I remember is the amazing caring people that we met during our stay at the hospital.  Like many professionals who spend their lives doing what appears to be the impossible, I am sure that they have done all of the things that were done for us countless times and so they have perfected it, however, to me, the response of the health care system and the people at Sunnybrook hospital was everything needed and more.  There we were, 7 weeks before we anticipated being at the hospital, wide eyed and completely in shock.  

In moments when you are overwhelmed it is often next to impossible to think clearly about what is going on around you.  You feel that you need answers but you have no idea what the questions even are.  The nurses, social workers, doctors, respiratory therapists, and others were wonderful in helping us through the first few days, giving us those answers, reassuring us that what we were feeling was normal, and helping to prepare us for the long journey ahead.  I know there are many ups and downs within our health care system here in Canada, but when it works like the NICU at Sunnybrook, you are truly left breathless by daily miracles that are performed.  During that first long weekend we felt ourselves trying desperately to find a routine, something that we could hang our hat on as being normal, good and steady.  While doing so was challenging it was not entirely impossible and the help of our family, friends and colleagues left us with hope that we could get through this.  

As that weekend passed, some things became easier to grasp.  They were getting great care, that was obvious.  We were finding time to eat and sleep and shower and such...mmm...normalcy...What was still very challenging though was leaving each night.  This is something that would slowly subside as we began to embrace our new found routine.  It would get harder again later as our boys began to grow and respond to us.  My thoughts on this are that for the first few days you hate to leave because you are so scared about what is to come and nearing the end you don't want to leave because it is clear things are getting better and you don't want to miss a thing.  It's a strange place to be that's for sure.  Getting back to some of my initial feelings, I think it is important that I express what I struggled with early on so that if anyone else finds themselves in a similar situation you can think back and find solace in the fact that you are not alone.  The hardest part for me and what ultimately drove me to tears was not being able to do anything.  

As a dad-to-be, you build yourself up as the ultimate protector of your family, a problem solver extraordinaire and willing to jump in front of anything to save the people you care about from pain or sorrow.  The reality of this situation is that you quickly realize that you are and cannot be any of those things.  It is painful to watch your little boys struggle for breath and only be able to hope that they catch on.  It is painful to see yet another IV stuck in their arm or to hear the scream as they search for a vein.  It is painful to watch things get better only to see them stumble and not have a hand in helping them back up.  And it is painful to sit, day after day, holding your wife's hand, reassuring each other it's going to be okay but knowing that you have no hand in that apart from waiting, hoping and loving.  Believe me, there were many long tear filled walks back to the car at night and many moments of going to get a coffee simply to escape.  

So a life lesson for my now at home little men who are almost double their size from 2 months ago is simply this:  there will be times when you will feel helpless, like you can't live up to your expectations or that you can't save a person that you love from the pain they are experiencing.  It is important at these times to be supportive, to do what you can and to patiently wait for better times, hope that they come quickly, and love that person/persons with all that you can.  You will hear the word miracle tossed around a lot in your life for things that are far from it (particularly around the sports world).  Try not to let this use of the word depreciate its value in your heart.  I know that from the day you were born that you were to be my little miracles and I can say looking back on those first few difficult days that a miracle is what I hoped for...and a miracle is what I received...for this your mother and I feel truly blessed.

Love Always, Dad