I wrote this a long time ago but didn't published it. Not really sure the title fits but what the heck...read it.
Ever since I became a parent, this blog post has been rolling around in my head. The fact is it's very easy for us to take good luck for granted. I am not saying one should "give testimony" for every little thing like waking up in the morning, taking the next breathe etc. But when I think about my kids and how normal they are and how non-trivial my wife's pregnancy was, I realize that I am very lucky. When you have 6 nieces and nephews, you start to think pregnancy isn't a big deal. After all, your sister and sister-in-law have done it 6 times with apparent ease. What could go wrong?
Then your wife gets pregnant, with twins and she starts watching all these weird shows on Discovery Chanel. And the answer to the question "what could go wrong?" becomes "a lot!".
Then you go to bed one night while your wife is only 4 months pregnant only to be woken up at 1:30am with your wife crying out your name. Turns out she's having contractions that won't stop. You call 911 and end up spending the entire day at 2 different hospitals. Doctors are trying to stop the contractions, saying stuff like "We are bringing out the big guns"; "We've done everything we can"; "You might want to take her to Howard County General Hospital because they have better NICU facilities"; "We can only give so much of this medicine"; "We need to give the babies steroids to quicken their growth, just in case they come". Eventually they are able to stop the contractions and you return home. Alas, now your wife is on full bed rest (yes it's exactly what you think it means).
Forward a few months and the babies finally arrive. You count the itsy bitsy fingers and toes (even though you know the nurses have done it) several times just to make sure. But wait, one of the nurses call you aside and says "Your boy has something that needs to be surgically corrected". But everything else is A-ok. Both babies are doing fine. In fact, so fine, the nurse says, they don't need the NICU. Even though they are twins and a bit early. Great news!
The next few weeks are spent battling sleep deprivation. Soon you find you your little boy has a severe milk allergy. So now we've gotta get special (i.e. very expensive) formula, feed the babies at a particular angle and sit them up for 1 hour after feeding. Just great!
And then you get the very worst call in the world. My office phone rings, I pick up and my wife is on the other side. I hear 5 words that almost changed my life: "Tundey, Toni is not breathing"
Ever since I became a parent, this blog post has been rolling around in my head. The fact is it's very easy for us to take good luck for granted. I am not saying one should "give testimony" for every little thing like waking up in the morning, taking the next breathe etc. But when I think about my kids and how normal they are and how non-trivial my wife's pregnancy was, I realize that I am very lucky. When you have 6 nieces and nephews, you start to think pregnancy isn't a big deal. After all, your sister and sister-in-law have done it 6 times with apparent ease. What could go wrong?
Then your wife gets pregnant, with twins and she starts watching all these weird shows on Discovery Chanel. And the answer to the question "what could go wrong?" becomes "a lot!".
Then you go to bed one night while your wife is only 4 months pregnant only to be woken up at 1:30am with your wife crying out your name. Turns out she's having contractions that won't stop. You call 911 and end up spending the entire day at 2 different hospitals. Doctors are trying to stop the contractions, saying stuff like "We are bringing out the big guns"; "We've done everything we can"; "You might want to take her to Howard County General Hospital because they have better NICU facilities"; "We can only give so much of this medicine"; "We need to give the babies steroids to quicken their growth, just in case they come". Eventually they are able to stop the contractions and you return home. Alas, now your wife is on full bed rest (yes it's exactly what you think it means).
Forward a few months and the babies finally arrive. You count the itsy bitsy fingers and toes (even though you know the nurses have done it) several times just to make sure. But wait, one of the nurses call you aside and says "Your boy has something that needs to be surgically corrected". But everything else is A-ok. Both babies are doing fine. In fact, so fine, the nurse says, they don't need the NICU. Even though they are twins and a bit early. Great news!
The next few weeks are spent battling sleep deprivation. Soon you find you your little boy has a severe milk allergy. So now we've gotta get special (i.e. very expensive) formula, feed the babies at a particular angle and sit them up for 1 hour after feeding. Just great!
And then you get the very worst call in the world. My office phone rings, I pick up and my wife is on the other side. I hear 5 words that almost changed my life: "Tundey, Toni is not breathing"
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