Welcome all you fellow fathers!

Fathers’ Day in the NICU… Not exactly the way anyone pictures spending their first Fathers’ Day. My first Father’s Day came amid the chaotic early days of having four babies in the NICU. Every day was both a blessing and a curse, as it seemed that with every bright light of hope, there soon followed an ominous darkness. I didn’t know it then, but I was about to hold my youngest child for the first and last time before the night of his death.

Growing up, my understanding of what Fathers do was formed by being around my own dad. They provide, protect, and care for their families in any and every possible way. That is their job.

But in the NICU, that doesn’t feel like it amounts to much. I visited our children’s beds every morning before driving an hour and half to work; then turned around and drove back to see them late at night. Afterwards, I tried to spend a few moments of relative peace with their mother, before collapsing exhausted- only to repeat it all again tomorrow.

Since I was at work all day, Melissa stayed at the hospital alone with the kids. She had to deal with the doctors and all the highs and lows, whereas I’m sure I received a more smoothed out version over the phone or later that evening. Her being there, of course, put her on point for making all the quick decisions, the ones that I couldn’t be there to help make (though I felt that I should have been). Not being there was one more thing added to how I identified with being a dad in the NICU -ineffective, distracted, and useless… feelings of disconnection to the kids.

But on Father’s Day, I was there and it mattered. It was then that I held Alex. It was the first time I was allowed to hold any of my children. With the little guy in my hands, the nurse chuckled about how “new dads always seem more afraid of holding their baby than they would be of wrestling a wild animal bare-handed”. I don’t believe I would have found that funny four years ago; not because it was offensive, but because I wouldn’t have understood how truly absurd it is.

I guess what I’m trying to illustrate is how in all the surrounding darkness- that you swear you will never make it through, you can sometimes find that one bright shining moment that stays with you forever. For me, it was my first Father’s Day, in the NICU. It was holding Alex.

Brett

It's a great thing that you can hold that memory of holding Alex so close. I'm sorry there weren't more of those moments.

I remember being frightened to hold my daughter at first. I just thought I was going to unplug her from something.

I'm not sure where to start. I'll take you back 37 months ago, I was sleeping on our couch for the past 12 weeks since my wife was on bedrest. During the middle of the night she yells my name out from the bathroom that the water broke. At 4:30 in the morning, I told her that I would fix the plumbing the next day. She told me, "No, my water broke". I've never been so awake in my entire life as I was with that moment. Scared and not knowing that my life would be forever changed. We had to drive an hour to the closest NICU that would be able to deliver a 28 week gestation baby.

We were lucky that my parents live in the same city as the major hospital with the NICU. We dropped off our older two boys at their house, not knowing that it would be months until we would all be together as a family again. After two days in the hospital, my lovely wife gave birth to our third boybarian, Logan (28 weeks, 2 lb. 4 oz.). I probably shed more tears that day than in my entire 31 years before that day.

There I was... my two older boys at my parents, my wife in the other room still drugged from the C-section and my newest son, Logan, who was in the NICU fighting for his life. I can't count how many times I went back and forth to fill Darcy in on Logan's obstacles. I remember seeing him covered with wires and tubes, his oxygen saturation level down to 38 and my little son - not much bigger than a barbie doll - was so blue. As the day progressed things got better, but it was always followed by negativity. The roller coaster ride we were embarking on was hillier than any ride at Six Flags or any other amusement park.

The doctors told us he would be in the hospital close to the next 12 weeks. After hearing that, I had to get back to work to fill my role as the responsible father. From this point on, I think my body became numb. My day would start by visiting my son in the NICU, followed by a 1 hour drive to work, working a full day having to listen to citizens stating their life is terrible because of the housing development that is going in next to their property, followed by another 1 hour drive back to Iowa City, picking up some food at one of the many restaurants that got to know me by face, followed by eating a quick dinner with my wife before we spending late hours at the NICU, all to wake up the next day and do it again. In the next 3 months, I was at my house about a total of 12 hours (once a week to get the mail). We were blessed to have the best neighbors to look after our house and keep up the lawn.

Someone recently asked me how I did it, I honestly couldn't tell you. I was the energizer bunny who kept going and going, even though my energy was running low. I really didn't have any other choice; you learned to deal with whatever cards were handed to you. Not only physically and emotionally, but this was taking a toll financially as well.

In similar situations, I think the fathers are the glue of the family. Sometimes it feels like we are the forgotten heroes, but once you see a response from your little one hearing your voice or the clinching of your finger, you have to feel instantly rewarded.

I could go on and on, but I don't want to put you all to sleep. Three years later, I definitely did not think we would have an oxygen-dependant child who is the size of Chicken Little. I've wondered why us, but then I think how lucky we really are to have Logan in our lives. Logan is a sweet brother, always with a smile and I couldn't be a prouder parent.

Randy

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." - John Lennon (from "Beautiful Boy")

On 6/22/04, my wife (Carissa) and I were scheduled to go in for our baby's 30-week ultrasound. For a few weeks, Carissa had been commenting about how she wasn't as "big" as she should be. I, trying to be the reassuring husband, kept telling her that some women just don't show as much. She has chronic hypertension, so she was already considered high risk. Aside from a spike in her blood pressure a week or two before, everything had been normal throughout the pregnancy, so we really had no cause for worry.
It had been several weeks since our last ultrasound, so we were excited to get to see pictures of our baby again and see how much he had grown and developed since our last visit.
When we got into the room, the sonographer got my wife hooked up and in a few moments, our baby appeared on the monitor. It was so great to see him/her again! The sonographer then said she would be right back and left the room. Well, we had never had that happen before, so we just looked at each other and shrugged and continued to watch the monitor. Just a few moments later, the doctor came in. We knew something had to be wrong. Our baby was moving around and appeared to be fine, but we still had a sense of worry. He began looking at the monitor and soon said, "We have a pretty small baby here." Tears immediately began to well in my wife's eyes and we asked how small he was talking about. When he responded that our baby was about 1 1/2 pounds, our hearts sank. At 30 weeks gestation, he should have been between 3 and 4 pounds by now. He explained how there was little to know amniotic fluid, and a very small amount of nutrients were getting thru the umbilical cord. Then came the shocker..."We're going to have to deliver this baby very soon...within the next couple of days." He was not due until 8/29. Stunned, we left the clinic and went straight to the hospital and checked in.
The next couple of days were very surreal. Being the obstinate person I am, kept telling myself, "It'll be fine. They'll get things back in shape and the baby will be born in August." Things were going ok, but all that meant is that we were buying the time we needed to get steroid injections into him to accelerate his lung development for his early arrival. Both nights, the baby's heart beat slowed to a very slow pace. Nurses came in during the middle of the night as alarms were going off on my wife's monitors to roll my wife from one side to another, assuming that he was lying on his cord. Each time, they got the heart rate to come back up.
On the morning of 6/24, we were scheduled for a C-section at 9am. By this time, I had come to grips with the fact that I would become a father today and not two months later as I had planned. Our families were there with us, and although we knew we likely had a long road ahead of us, everyone's spirits were high....until approximately 8:30.
I was in the restroom changing into my scrubs when suddenly the heart rate dropped again to a very low rate and they could not get it to come back up. My wife was whisked away to undergo an emergency C-section, and due to the severity of the situation, I was not allowed to go into the operating room. Our parents and siblings were taken out of the area and had to wait in the waiting room. I was alone, standing outside the operating room doors, and it was the loneliest I had ever felt in my life.
Just minutes later, although it seemed like an eternity, the doctor came out and approached me. I could hear what sounded almost like a small kitten coming from the room behind him. He asked me, "Do you hear that?" I said yes, and he said, "That's him. He's very small and weak, but he's doing fine." (I was stunned that he said "him". We decided we were not going to find out the sex of the baby, and I had never been so certain that "he" was going to be a girl...just a hunch.)
Braden Martin Sauer was born 10 weeks early at 1 pound, 11 ounces.
It was then that it was revealed to me that when he was born, he had a complete ("true") knot in his umbilical cord. If we had not had our appointment when we did, there is a very strong chance that he might not be here today.
Thus, our 77 day stay in the NICU began. From the beginning (although he was small), Braden was very strong. Developmentally, he was almost exactly where he should have been at that stage, just a miniature version. As expected, he was on breathing support his entire time in the hospital - first the vent, then CPAP, then cannula, then back to the vent when it was discovered he was in need of more support. Those 2+ months were very difficult. He would make great strides, then regress a little, then improve and then plateau. It was hard to watch such a special little person begin his life in such a dire state and see him fight each day. But from day one, you could already see his courage, strength, and feistiness. I was a proud father from the start.
I'll never forget the first time I got to hold him and the small milestones he hit, such as reaching 2 pounds on the 4th of July. We watched him grow and get stronger, all the while getting pricked and poked and handled by so many people. The most difficult time for us came around his original due date, when we had expected to take him home. At the time of his due date, Braden was still on oxygen support and was not able to feed very well. We were very frustrated and shed many tears trying to will our son to get over that hump so we could take him home to his real bed.
Finally on 9/9, my wife called me at work and asked, "Are you ready to take our baby home?" I went straight to the hospital and not long later, Braden was outside for the first time and going for his first car ride on the way to his house. He came home on a cannula to help his breathing, but that was just a blip on the radar for us. We got him home, showed him his room...finally, our house was a home.
From that point, things only got better and today Braden is about 2 weeks shy of his 2nd birthday. Although he is still a little small for his age (about 23 pounds), you would never know that he had such a rough beginning. After all, he has already gone thru more than a lot of us will ever go through in our lives. He runs everywhere, LOVES being outside, never stops talking and is such a smart kid who is always learning something new. He absolutely loves life and is so full of energy that he just inspires and rubs off on those around him. He has made the last 2 years so special for Carissa and I. Not only am I so proud of him, I am very proud of my wife. I tell her that she was born to be a Mommy and the bond that she is built with Braden is truly amazing. The energy she puts into being a terrific mother and wife is something that amazes me everyday.
Now, looking back on his days in the NICU, I really have to think hard to remember all the tough times. Mostly, I remember the joy of being a new father and spending time with my son, doing what I could to help him get stronger...ironically, they are happy memories for me.

I know that this has been a long post, but I hope that it lends at least a little support for any dads who are experiencing what we went through 2 years ago. In hearing some other stories about preemies, we consider ourselves very fortunate as many babies have to endure much more than our little Braden did.
My advice to any dads that need support is to STAY POSITIVE. In time, this will pass and before you know it, your son or daughter won't be a baby anymore. You will be chasing him or her around the house and yard and they will chase you. They will say the funniest things you've ever heard and do things that make you laugh and bring tears of joy. Their laugh will make you laugh. He or she will have a favorite toy, a favorite book, and will give you high fives and "knucks" (fist bumps). And they will be so excited when you come home from work and they will give you hugs and kisses and tell you that he or she loves you.

OK - so I'm not a dad...and shouldn't be posting here. But I can't help myself. You are all such amazing dads. Your kids are SO very lucky to have you! Just wanted to let you know that we already knew about you......but it's nice to hear from you, in your own words, what it means to be a dad. Amazing!

Happy Father's Day to you all!

Denise

I'm with Denise....I'm not a dad...but I have to say, after being on Share for over a year, and knowing these stories of your little ones so very well....hearing it from a dad's perspective totally blows me away....and I have to tell you, you all had me in tears!!

Thanks for having a place for dads to go...and for us moms to go to remember how special you dads are!!

Happy Father's Day!!

Sharlene

I am so with the others. It is nice to know the father's side of things. It really gives me a new outlook.

Angi "Phoenix's MoM"

Well, I just had to jump on the bandwagon, and shout out to all of you Dads!!

I know each of your stories.. and can say.. you have truely been blessed. But, you are also a blessing, to your wives, your children, and to the new Dads who will walk this path after each of you.

Thank you for sharing "your" story. While it's has the same characters.. it's a version we don't often hear.

Beer, and Hugs,
Karri

Big Thanks to all you dads for not only sharing your stories, which are truly amazing, but for giving us a totally new perspective on things. We already knew you were heros but these amazing stories proves it and while they are not the same worries as moms at times, they are just as important and real!

Hugs to all,
Donna

Knowing I have such a tough act to follow in Daisy's Mommy, my wife Sam here on Share, adds a little pressure to this first post, but also proves how important this network has been for both us over the last year. So before I start, a BIG thank you to everyone who has provided words of encouragement and support to Daisy, Sam and myself throughout it all.

Nearly a year ago to the day, our little world changed for the better. Throughout Sam's pregnancy I reassured her everything would end up perfect and we'd have a super-cool daughter to share our lives with. For the most part that ended up coming true; it just so happened our daughter Daisy inherited the impatience of her father and was born at 28 weeks on July 3, 2005. Our Miracle in Madison at a whopping 2.8lbs.

Getting and staying involved...
From the time Sam's water broke, two weeks prior to delivery, to Daisy's extended stay in the NICU, 65-days, my primary role became that of supporter to my wife and newborn daughter. Whenever there was a moment that was difficult for either Sam or Daisy I took it upon myself to be there for them. Whether it was an IV gone bad, see Sam's blog, or an EPO shot for Daisy, I would be by their side. This wasn't easy for me as I'm fairly loyal to work, but it was my way of doing whatever I could for the two of them.

Getting involved for me also included learning everything I could about what our little bundle of joy was going through in the NICU. From sitting in on rounds and asking even what some would consider remedial questions (their Dr.'s not Drill Sergeants) to reading up the latest information we'd been given on Daisy. I suppose you could say knowledge is comfort in this case.

Time for yourself...
When it came to my own well being, and more importantly Sam's for that matter, it was a high priority to take moments for ourselves and spend time outside the NICU. I worked hard to ensure this happened including, god forbid, not going to the NICU for an entire day. This may seem unthinkable when you're in the midst of daily NICU stress, but believe me this did wonders for the two of us. Go beyond a movie or eating out, do something the two of you did before "the event" and forget about the NICU for awhile. Any good NICU staff will encourage this.

Coming home and living with two women...
Through it all there's definitely been ups and downs, but it has been worth it. Daisy is a great kid who is a blast to hang out with, Sam is an AMAZING WIFE who has been a rock throughout, i have the pleasure of having been given an extra 11-weeks with her as our Little-D.

Daisy's Dad - paul

OH man - you did GREAT! I know - Sam is a tough act to follow - but I can read how proud you are of them - and that ROCKS!

My husband feels your pain - in a house of 3 women. But believe me, I don't think he'd have it any other way either!!!

Happy Father's Day to you!
Denise

Thanks to all of the awesome dads who have shared their NICU daddy-hood experiences with us so far. You guys are truly extraordinary men ... Who have a GREAT deal of respect from me, as well as the other moms on this site.

Thanks for all you do to help hold your families up and together!

Melissa

I have said before that it was Logan's dad who held everything together in the NICU. I was so focused on Logan, so narrowly focused on the day-to-day survival game that I was unable to look wider than the hospital. I spent my days pumping religiously, kangarooing Logan, and learning everything I could about his diagnosis and prognosis. It was Randy who was able to keep track of everyone's whereabouts, help organize pick-ups and drop-offs of the older boys from grandparent to grandparent, make sure the bills were paid, the lawn was mowed, and the mail was picked up, and still work 40 hours a week. He did the mundane chores of picking up food for me and the boys, filling the gas tank. I think I left the hospital campus only 3-4 times, usually only across town for food. I went home exactly one time in those three months, and it took Randy days of pleading to get me to leave, and I white-knuckle clutched my cell phone the whole time (willing it not to ring, but fearing it would and I would miss it).
I had no idea what was going on in the news or in the world. Randy somehow was able to multi-task all of it. And to this day I have no idea how he did it. I have a very good idea, though, of how lucky I am to have him and how lucky the boys are to have such a devoted, strong father.
Father's Day is what it is because of dads like Randy and all of you who stood bravely like pillars - steadfast - during the NICU ordeal, and are better men because of it. I'm in awe of you all.
Darcy

How awesome of each of you to share your story!!!!... Your story that is not just a Fathers perspective, but a Fathers reality ...I so admire all the qualities each of your posess....your love, strength, and courage is admirable...

God Bless Each of you!!!!
Melody

PS: YOU GOTTTA LOVE LOGANS DADDY'S AKA: Mr Darcy..That is a hoot!!!... ...Mr Darcy...YOU ROCK!!!!!

Thank you Dads, for sharing......Like the other mommies, I've read these stories before, heard these stories before, but they are so different coming from you. You were the strength that gave us the strength to survive the NICU. You ROCK!!!!

Donna