Chapter 41
Bolo
Sitting by myself as the doctors and nurses worked on my son in his NICU room, and stitched up my old lady over in the OR, was the most terrifying and loneliest moment of my life.
In hindsight, it was also the best day of my life.
Actually, the best day, the very best day, would come a few days later, but we’d get to that.
In that moment, when I needed to be in two places at once, and was completely powerless in both places, it was awful.
Everything was a bit of a blur. The decision to do the C-section, then the delivery itself had gone so damn fast. But for me it was mostly just waiting. Waiting in her room and waiting as they wheeled her down the hall to the surgery room. Waiting to be brought into the OR. Just continuous waiting.
The whole time I had one simple prayer. Please protect my wife and baby. I just wanted the two of them to come out of this okay.
I sat with Devyn in the OR stroking her head and comforting her, the only thing I could do. “You’re doing great,” I said in a low voice as she laid there. I was pretty sure we were both in shock. This hadn’t been the plan. Hadn’t been what we were expecting when the morning had started out.
Now we were here in this freezing cold room as they delivered our son.
I just kept smoothing my hand over Dev’s hair, letting her know I was here with her.
Her arms were straight out from her body so she couldn’t reach back and touch me.
And we were both concentrating hard in case Dr. Natalie said something. We didn’t want to miss anything.
It didn’t take long before they had Collin out. A couple of happy squeaks from the nurses, a little cry from Collin, and that was it.
“Are you coming with us, Dad?” one of the nurses asked with a kind expression on her face. “He’s stable enough to move to the NICU, but we have a lot of work to do to keep him that way.”
“Yeah. I’m coming with him.” I kissed Devyn’s forehead and left the room with the nurses and my son.
I hesitated for just a second at the door.
I hated to leave her, but Collin needed me.
I knew that in a few minutes Dev would be in her room with her mother.
That had been the plan and she wanted me to go with our son.
He was vulnerable and if anything were to happen he needed me there with him.
He couldn’t be alone. Neither of us wanted that.
If things go…
I wouldn’t allow myself to finish that thought. Shoving it from my mind, I clenched my fists. I was going with him. I wouldn’t leave him. Like my father for me, I would be there for him, always. And that started right now.
Because he was a twenty-eight-week preemie his little body was very underdeveloped.
In reality he was still a fetus, just on the wrong side of the womb.
We got to his room and I watched as they hooked up a CPAP to help him breathe, put him in a little pod—I later found out it was called an isolette—and put half a dozen little tubes and hoses into his body.
Swallowing hard, I watched as the nurses—and maybe a doctor, I wasn’t sure—worked on my son.
Alarms were blaring but I wasn’t sure if they were saying that my son was having troubles, or if it was because they were in the process of being set up.
Hours passed, though it could have been days. I didn’t know if I even blinked. I just watched silently. Occasionally nurses would talk to me, keep me updated on what they were doing and how he was responding.
“These are IVs and feeding lines in addition to the sensors,” one of the nurses explained.
She pointed to the monitor. “That one keeps track of his heartbeat. The middle one there are his breaths, though it can be off occasionally. The last one is his oxygen saturation levels. That and his heartbeat are the two most important.”
Nodding, I listened and committed everything to memory. I would glance at everything she pointed out, then my eyes would snap back to my son. He was so frail and fragile. I was afraid if I took my eyes off him, that would be it.
And that was where the terror and loneliness came in.
I wanted to check on Devyn, but I had to trust her in the care of her mother.
Hope had my number. She would call if there was a problem.
And I knew she would take great care of Dev, even though I couldn’t be there to comfort her myself.
I wanted to protect my son, but his care was out of my control, too.
I’d never been so powerless in my life. All I could do was stand by—out of the way—and watch.
Eventually, they got him settled, and the alarms finally stopped screaming, and it was quiet.
One by one the people left his room, and I was pretty sure they’d said things to me on the way out, but I barely noticed.
It wasn’t that I was trying to be a dick.
I was just trying to hold it all together.
I was the rock for my kid, for my wife. If I lost it…
what then? So, I waited until everyone had left and it was just me and Collin.
I stood outside his isolette and just watched him.
They’d turned the lights down low and there was a cover over the isolette, but I had it open enough that I could look down at him.
I wasn’t even sure how to explain what I was feeling.
Amazement. Sheer terror. He was so tiny.
No bigger than the palm of my hand. Less than two pounds.
He was bundled up on some kind of special pillow they had for him. The isolette would keep the temperature and humidity exactly where he needed it, so he was lying on his pillow with only sheets on it. Someone had mentioned all that and though it hadn’t registered at the time it’d stuck in my head.
Already we had some progress. Sort of. He had started off in what I can only describe as a bag, like the kind that used to go in the old vacuums. But now he was just in a little diaper, and a little hat that held his CPAP in place.
My lips twitched because he looked like a little space man. His breathing tube and mask made him look like he was ready for a trip to Mars. But at the time all I could see was that he was at the mercy of his early fate, and all I could do was watch and hope that he fought to stay here with us.
The hours passed and I put the cover down on the isolette, but I stayed standing by it.
That was the only thing I could do for now.
There was a recliner in the room for me to sit in, but I didn’t want to be too far from him.
So I stood right there, my hand on the top of the pod.
The nurses were great, caring for his every need and even checking in on me.
“How are you doing?”
Looking over, I nodded at the woman who’d just walked into the room.
I wasn’t sure if she was a nurse, doctor, or something in between.
They’d explained that there were charge nurses, nurse practitioners, and respiratory therapists here watching over my son, and the other children in the NICU.
I wasn’t able to keep track of it all, not yet.
“Can I get you anything?”
Shaking my head at her, I communicated in the only way I could for now. I couldn’t seem to talk. It was taking all my strength to keep my composure together.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have people to call.
People that were understanding. I could call my dad.
He’d understand and wouldn’t judge me. That wasn’t it.
I literally couldn’t pick up the phone to call him.
He would answer, but no words would have come out of my mouth.
It had already been hours and there was still a lump in my throat I couldn’t seem to squeeze sound past.
The nurses seemed to understand. They must see this in the NICU daily. They maneuvered around me, spoke gently, but most importantly, they took care of Collin.
They explained everything they did to him, told me how he was doing, and what to expect next.
I didn’t know how long I’d been standing there, in shock, because the hours were bleeding together, but eventually they got him stable and comfortable enough that they were ready to open up his little pod. And I got my reward for enduring the terror. I got to hold my little man’s hand.
I sucked in a breath when he wrapped his little fingers around the tip of my finger.
For such a tiny and fragile little boy, he was feisty and strong.
He latched onto my finger and squeezed—so hard that the tips of his fingers went white.
My whole world just went soft. It was worth it.
I would endure the terror over and over just to feel him grab my finger again.
To see the comfort radiate through his little body as he grabbed hold of me. I would endure every hardship for him.
“We try only to touch him during care time,” Bryce, one of the nurses, told me. He gave me an understanding look. “I know that’s probably hard for you as a father, not to be able to touch or hold your baby whenever you want to.”
I shook my head and managed to speak the first words since leaving Devyn in the operating room. “No, it’s fine. Whatever he needs.”
Bryce smiled at me. “Well, I’ll be here with him all night. Will you be staying?”
Meeting his gaze, I nodded. “I’m not going anywhere. Unless it’s to check on my…wife,” I amended. “Have you happened to hear how she’s doing?”
I hadn’t called Hope because I’d been in such a weird place all day, though she had sent over a couple of brief texts.
“She’s doing well,” Bryce told me as he reached into the isolette. “Dr. Natalie will stop in later and give you an update on her if you want?”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“Do you want to change his diaper?”
My eyes widened as excitement filled me. I’d been watching him adjust the CPAP and wires, but at his question my head snapped up. “Uh…yeah, hell yeah.”