Wednesday, July 16, 2014

I love beign a dad; I hate beign a dad

Fatherhood, what some people think is one of the greatest accomplishments a man can do. Knowing your stuff works, making life. You are responsible for a new life. As my father before me, and his father before him I wanted to do things right from the beginning.

This is a great responsibility, well, only if you care for your children and we know there are many that do not. Me, I take this role very seriously, that is why I love it and I hate it.

After looking for that great person to marry, getting a steady job and enjoying my marriage for a few years we decided to have a child.

It was accelerating to get everything ready and prepare for the arrival. We told our families and friends, picked names, got the room ready, register at the store, got a baby shower, snap some pregnancy photos, looked for day care and so on.

Like lost of people we had a miscarriage before we had our son. That was a difficult thing to go through but nothing like what awaited for us once he was here. The funny thing about miscarriage is that happens to lots of people but no one talks about it, like is a big shameful secret or something. Parents should tell their kids about it and explain that is not the end of the world. Almost every parent I know has gone through one or more.

My son was born prematurely. He was born at 8 months. That day stated like a regular day, we both got ready for work and had made arrangement to go to a follow up appointment at the OBGYN. Starting at seven months  we've been going every week to the office as the amniotic fluid was low and he was frank breech. Great thinking by the doctor here to keep a very close eye on things. At the office we got an ultrasound and that was the beginning of the hardest journey that we as people had ever been on. It is funny how, before they are born, you already love them and really care for them. You've never seen their face, held them, wipe their butt, but love them more than you love yourself. Right after the ultrasound the doctor sent us to the hospital for an emergency C-Section. We had no arrangements for a delivery that day, that was not the "schedule" arrival date. Now I know that kids tend to set schedules for you, and he started with a bang.

We are Hispanics, Puerto Ricans to be precise. If you are not familiar with the culture after marriage the woman does not take the husbands last name, and that is how we've done it. As we were getting everything ready at the hospital, one of the nurses was filling up the paperwork that went on the crib and the file. She asked for the kid's last name. Me, as a proud new father, said "HERNANDEZ", unloading years of heritage and Hispanic pride. The nurse looked at me partially crossed eyed and told me that since my wife and I had different last name the mother's last name was to be on the crib. Not a bad thing, but proud Papa's last name must be there. This lovely nurse said something to me that has, from that point forward, eliminated my need to hold back when talking to medical professionals. I say what I think regardless of the title. She said "Well sir, the only thing we know here is that it is her baby". Oh Ms. Nurse, thank you for calling my wife, the mother of my child, a slot. In my humble opinion that is not a nice thing to say.

My little Sebastian was born on a Thursday, July 20th at 6:15 P.M weighting only 4lb 9 Oz.. I was in the delivery room, excited and tired after a long and difficult day. My poor wife was scared off her mind. When he was born, the delivery room team went to work immediately on him as the doctor was fixing up my wife.

My Son is now here, the miracle of life, the fulfillment of the cycle of life, our God given mandate. The little man was not crying and the teams was trying to make him cry. Oxygen levels were fine but no cry. I should have enjoyed that little no cry time, after that it was a constant for 3 months!

Mom and son were moved to the recovery area, daddy soon followed. As I walked in, he was wide awake looking around the room, quitely breathing on his own all bundle up. He looked really cute although I must say that he was quite ugly. There are no pretty newborns, they are cute but certainly not pretty. I called my folks and my mother in law right from that room all exited and crying. Men should not cry in public, just saying.

The birth of my kid, a crazy experience, a life changing event that was not planned to be as massive as it has been. The days that followed were very hard and are a blur of event on our minds. That, is another entry.

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