Shouting at nurses and crying like a baby

Our baby boy was whisked away from us fairly quickly. He had pooped and inhaled his meconium (first stool which is tar like) during labor and the nurses wanted to clear his little lungs. They put him under a heat lamp, suctioned his lungs prior to weighing him -- at which point I made it clear that Kelly should be able to hold her baby (even if for a moment)... ..."If you can weigh him, she can hold him!" I said with authority that surprised even me.

After Kelly got to hold him for a moment they returned him under the lamp and patted him with a little cup in order to get any remaining meconium from his lungs. While the nurse was doing this I was getting more and more protective and when she was explaining what she was doing to Deb (Kelly's mom) she accidentally hit our little guy on his chin... ..."Can you watch what you are doing!" I said angrily.

They then took him off to the Neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) and I followed only to see some young nurses unable to draw blood and repeatedly poking him in the wrist. They hooked him up to an IV and put a little oxygen bubble over his head. The head nurse explained to me that his breathing did not stabilize and that he may have holes in the side of his lungs so needed to be monitored. I updated Kelly on the situation and sent her to rest -- our midwife told us that they were being over cautious and that he would be just fine.

I hung out with him as much as I could only leaving to get a cup of coffee, cry a bunch and wake up Deb and Kelly. Our baby showed no signs of weakening and every time they lowered his oxygen he did just fine. We were allowed o hold him that night and Kelly fed him too... ...an amazing moment in a horrific environment. The next day we stayed by his bedside constantly and the nurses wanted to ween him of the IV but he broke free from it all by himself... ...a low and behold his glucose levels were fine. At this point I was willing to do whatever the nurses said just to be able to get him out of this room.

That evening he was dismissed from the NICU and I broke down again -- the three of us stayed in the same room in the hospital, hardly slept a wink and were happy.

As I think back on those days I realize I showed more emotion than I normally would in a year (or perhaps ever have in my life). Something about becoming a father made me supper protective and vulnerable all at the same time. I went through no physical changes but something biological inside me was triggered. This reluctant father became a proud dad -- a feeling that I hope will never subside.