Two years ago today...

Two years ago today I watched my baby boy Lincoln take his first breathe. Dylan was delivered by C-section and this was Jill’s first live birth. She was an absolute hero. Her water broke in the middle of the night. She didn’t want to be cooped up in a hospital room for hours so she decided to do most of her labor at home. The goal was to go to the hospital when contractions got close enough. Being that her water broke in the middle of the night, I decided to take a little nap before our big day ahead. Pretty much, I slept all night. I know I know, I can already hear the collective gasp…Jill’s mom was there the whole time. I don’t know if that makes it any better. The contractions were getting closer and closer by early morning. We called our midwife and decided it was time to head to the hospital.

The contractions at home were tickle fights compared to what Jill was experiencing during the drive to the hospital. You could visibly see the difference in Jill’s demeanor. Her brow would wrinkle, each breath seemed to consume her energy, and silence was necessary. As a husband I felt absolutely helpless, my protective instincts wanted to shelter my wife from suffering…but in the end, this was the only way. (side note: Jill opted not to take any drugs…she wanted to deliver naturally) By the time we made it to the hospital, Jill was having severe contractions. They checked her in immediately and the nurse did a preliminary check. The look on our nurse’s face was enough to tell us that we kind of cut it close. She jumps up and gets on the phone right away, “we need a bed now. Yeah…she’s a 10.” For those of you that don’t have kids that means Jill was dilated to 10 cm…that means its time to push.

One hour later I am staring into the eyes of my new baby boy. The idea of having two boys was so exciting. I think of my friend Errol who has two boys pretty close in age. I see the way they laugh and play…how they protect each other…how they make imaginary forts together and then collectively destroy it. These were things I would dream about for my own boys…life, love, laughter, protection, and of course, imaginary forts. All of these thoughts came to a stop the moment Dr. Jenny walked into our room.

Jill was laying on her bed talking to her mom and brother-in-law. The doctor said, “I have something I need to talk to you about, do you want everyone to stay?” My heart sank to the floor and I felt that my life was about to change. I knew it was a moment that we needed alone so we asked everyone to leave the room as the doctor talked to us. Her first words were, “I’m so sorry, I have some bad news.” I don’t remember much after that. After the doctor left the room I crawled into the hospital bed with Jill. Jill was trembling and shaking terribly. We just held each other and cried.

How do you fall in love with someone so deeply after only 18 days? I don’t know. But I can’t deny what my heart feels. Part of Lincoln’s condition was that he had heart problems. During his last day there would be moments when his heart would stop for up to a minute at a time. As you can imagine, this was the worst torture any parent can experience. I told Jill that I didn’t want to hold him much during that last day because I couldn’t deal with the pain of him passing in my arms. Jill completely understood and nurtured him like only Jill could…with tenderness, grace, peace, love, gentleness. I was sleeping on an air mattress in Lincoln’s bedroom when Jill came in. She asked me to hold him for a few minutes while she did something around the house. I cradled his small frame and rested him on my chest. He was such a peaceful person. He rested on me like a blanket, but better. I fell back to sleep within minutes. One hour later I woke up. I looked at my child that was curled in a ball on my chest and realized that sometime during my sleep, he took his last breath. I called for Jill, she came into the room and with quivering lips I said, “I think….” There was no need to finish the statement. She slowly walked over and picked up his fragile body. She sat on the floor rocking back and forth saying, “you’re my baby, you're my baby” over and over again. I just sat next to her…still, silent, and wrecked. It is something I will never forget.

This is the first time in months that I have cried about this moment in my life. Part of me wonders if I’m trying to forget unintentionally…like my subconscious has this protection mechanism. But I don’t think it’s true. There are moments that fade and memories that are lost, it is part of the human mind. But with the simple whisper of his name, my heart and soul feel…and it lays me low. That is something the mind will never forget. I made up a lullaby the day Jett was born and sang it to Lincoln on his birthday as well. It goes:

I know this song
It sings inside my heart
Saying I love you
Saying I love you
Thank you for being my baby boy
Thank you for being my baby boy

I miss him dearly, I will never forget two years ago today.

Regrets

Last night Miah and Shelly came over for dinner. It was so good to hang out with them. Jill and I did their premarital counseling and we really haven’t had any good quality time since then. They are still together so we figured that was cause to celebrate…and they are in love as well. (a tribute to epic counseling) I’m just kidding around…they are thriving in spite of scattered counseling. They just got back from Europe and we wanted to hear all about it…but we didn’t want to share them with any one else. Jill made chicken with stuffing and Shellamiah brought over chocolate whoopies. (this is my favorite dessert on earth and is also the perfect lead in to the statement, "that's what she said")

We talked about Europe and all the wonderful things they experienced. I saw pictures of huge art installations in the middle of cities, castles that are only seen in movies, and daisies fashioned in Miah’s beard. I heard stories of canoeing down channels and rivers, drinking on roof top bars, hitchhiking in the Alps, sleeping in train stations, and sipping wine at the base of the Eiffel Tower. I was absolutely fascinated by all of it. But nothing got my attention more than all the pictures of art in Shellamiah’s photo album. It was littered with images of art that Shelly and Miah stood face to face with. These are pieces that you see in books and magazines…like Andy Warhol originals and other famous people I don’t know. The thing that captured my attention was not the art itself, but the fact that these two got to have personal experience with something/someone they really respect. Not everyone can say that they have met their heroes. I’m jealous of that.

Later on in the evening the conversation took a left turn. We started to talk about regrets. I asked the question, “what is something from your past that you regret not trying?” I start it off by saying I wish I would have tried playing football in high school. I think I would have really enjoyed it. But my fear of failure was greater than my desire to experience. Jill chimes in and says that she wishes she would have tried doing sports. Most people don’t know this but Jill is a natural athlete. She has a perfect runners build and is naturally lean. During field day in elementary school, she would get first in all events she competed in…but never did anything after that. Maybe Jill is an Olympic athlete in hibernation. Shelly interjects and talks about always having the desire to become a hair stylist. Not just a super cuts stylist, but a “fancy” one. We all go on for about 20 minutes. Then we turn to Jeremiah and say, “what about you?” He responds with, “that’s a great question, I don’t know.” “Really nothing?” “Yah, I don’t know, I’m sorry, I’m really trying to think of something.”

Then it came to me. Maybe that says something about Jeremiah. What would your life look like if you didn’t have regrets of not trying? It really made me think. Jeremiah wasn’t being arrogant by saying he couldn’t think of anything. It was simply a testament to his character, “I guess I always tried.” So I ask myself the question, How would my life be different if I lived more like this? I think I would stop seeing life through books and magazines…I think I would try to meet some of my heroes face to face. Here is my final thought: When I’m old and dying, I think I would rather see my life full of failures than to have never tried…sometimes the most beautiful experiences are found in the wreckage.

i love being a dad

It's a really long video but you get to see his skills in about the first 30 seconds. This is why he makes me laugh at least once a day. (FYI, this is also his favorite song, I've probably listened to it 100 times...literally)