One of the things about becoming a Dad for the first time is that you feel a little disconnected as Mom is by far the more necessary person in the birth. Having your first child go in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit is especially frustrating, as it feels like there is so little you can do for your child.
When our son was born at 22 weeks and 6 days of gestation, machines, drugs, and highly skilled medical professionals kept him alive, and we were spectators.
One memory I have of trying to feel useful is when my wife and I stood by our son’s incubator shortly after his birth, Miri asked the nurse, “What’s his blood type?”
“O-Positive,” the nurse said.
Miri looked at me and said, “Ha, ha, I win.” [Read the rest of the post at PreemieBabies101]
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