6

Happy Birthday David.

The last couple of days, the symmetry of you being in the NICU after you were born to being in the PICU when you died has been stuck in my head.

You were born 8 days early. Your Mommy’s doctor was about to be out of town and she wasn’t about to risk having you with a random on call doctor that she didn’t know. She was induced and although you were in a perfect position a week prior, you decided to change positions when it was time to be born. The problem was that you decided to try to go through your Mommy’s hip socket. I think of it like someone putting their head through the arm sleeve of their shirt, except more painful.

So C-Section it was. All the nonsense I heard about a big screen being up so I didn’t see anything, yeah that didn’t happen. There was a little screen that was in front of Mommy’s face so that she didn’t see anything, but I saw it all. It really wasn’t that bad to watch. Your Mommy was barely with it because of the medicine she was on and I was sitting there watching her doctor get mad that there wasn’t a certain tool that she needed available in the supply cabinets. She cracked the whip and at that moment I was happy that she was in charge of you being born.

Then you came, all of a sudden there was a tiny person that I was responsible for. The problem is that you took in some fluid and couldn’t get it out, more symmetry with your death. The nurses turn to me and ask, “Are you staying with Mommy or are you coming with David to the NICU?” I was stunned, no one prepped me for this. Mommy and I hadn’t talked ahead of time about what we would do if this happened. For a split second I was frozen, then thank goodness Mommy was with it enough to tell me to go with you.

So I went with you, which for the first few minutes was a bit of a comical choice. I couldn’t even see you. There were so many nurses and doctors huddled around you, putting in an I.V., heart monitor, breathing tube, and whatever else they had. Once I could see you, you had so much stuff on you that I still couldn’t really see you. Eventually someone explained to me what was going on and settled my nerves.

I went and checked on your mom and gave her the rundown of what I was told. Then we got her into her recovery room. I barely remember that room because I was constantly in the NICU with you. I do remember Mommy saying she was cold, THANK THE LORD! You were a little heater in her and it had been 9 months since she was cold. I was ecstatic to hear that I wouldn’t have to sleep in a jacket now!

One of the times when Mommy went to see you, I wasn’t there. I think your PaPa and LeeLee were there. Mommy was holding you and one of the doctor’s came in and told her not to. It was a bit shocking considering that hospital promoted skin to skin interactions. Mommy was none to pleased with this doctor, in fact with how experienced she is now, she probably would’ve given that doctor a word or two if he said that to her now.

Later that day, Mommy’s doctor came to visit us in Mommy’s recovery room. We were shocked to see her because she was supposed to be in Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving. She checked on Mommy and asked about you. We told her you were fine, but that we wish we could hold you. She gave us a strange facial expression and when we finished talking, she asked why we couldn’t hold you. We told her what the NICU doctor said to Mommy when she held you earlier. She told us to hang on for a minute while she went and figured out what was going on. She came back a few minutes later and told us we could go hold you and that there won’t be anymore issues with us holding you. We were a little surprised and excited that this wouldn’t be an issue anymore.

There’s more that went on after that, but that moment has always stuck with me and still sticks with me. It’s another point of symmetry between your birth and your death. Right now I can’t hold you. It may be the thing I miss most about you not being here anymore. I can’t give you a hug or get cuddles from you. We have a physical barrier keeping us separated. One day though, our Physician, The Physician, is going to tell me, “You can go hold your son now, there won’t be anymore issues.” I can’t wait for that day.

Until then, we keep your memory alive. We celebrate your birthday with memories and birthday cake. Your little brother sings the Happy Birthday and is excited to know that you are turning 6 today.

I know I can’t talk to you. I know that writing this as if I was talking to you is purely cathartic for me, but I miss you. I look forward to seeing you again and I thank God that I got to be your dad.

Happy Birthday David.