Page 129 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

“As long as they have both of us on speed dial,” she says.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“Are you ready to go see him? Or do you want a shower first.”

“I want to see him. If your dad has been there since four, he needs to go home.”

Within a few minutes, we’re entering the NICU. Faces of the other parents, all familiar by now, look up in greeting. Not happy greetings. None of us are delighted to be here. It’s more of an acknowledgement of presence. We’re all part of a club nobody wants to join.

Yesterday, Sam and I had a long talk about becoming dads. He has a long, long road ahead of him, though. His daughter, Gemma, affectionately known as Tiny Tornado, has all kinds of health issues. I feel for him. And it’s hard not to feel fortunate that my kid isonlyexperiencing spells. Sometimes I catch him looking at us with envy. Just as I look at them with a broken fucking heart. Because I can’t imagine how it would feel if Mitchell had even a fraction of the things his daughter does. Low blood pressure, infection, intraventricular hemorrhage, and a slew of other conditions I can’t recall.

It’s kind of wild to even think for a second that I feel lucky with my four-pound-fifteen-ounce son who occasionally stops breathing. But in here, it’s hard not to.

“You’ve got yourself one hell of a kid,” Dad says, letting Christa take Mitchell and pass him off to Regan.

“You’re just in time,” Christa says. “We’re going to try feeding him with a bottle this morning.”

“A bottle?” Regan looks up. “Why not my breast?”

“Nursing is very taxing on the little ones. The high-flow bottles will let us know how ready he is. If he does well over the next day or two, we’ll transition him to your breast. Don’t worry, he’ll still be getting your breast milk. Just don’t forget to pump every three or four hours. And supplementing with the bottle while he’s here and you’re at home will be necessary as these little ones need to eat every two hours.”

Regan sighs. I know she’s still thinking about how much she wants to be here. But, man, every two hours? I’m kind of glad she won’t be. She needs her sleep.

Christa hands Regan a very small bottle with a tiny nipple. There’s hardly any milk in it.

“That’s all he’s going to get?” I ask.

“At this age, he’ll take about twelve to fifteen ounces per day. Because he’ll be fed every two hours, he doesn’t need very much at each feeding. But what he does get is full of nutrients since it’s Regan’s colostrum.”

“What if he chokes on it?” Regan asks.

“I’m right here,” Christa says. “I think he’s going to do just fine.”

Dad quietly slips out, wanting us to have this moment together. I nod my thanks.

When Regan carefully touches the nipple to Mitchell’s tiny lips, he immediately turns away.

“It’s okay,” Christa says. “Try again. Preemies have all kinds of unpleasant things going in their mouths. It won’t take him long to figure out this is the good stuff. Try putting it on his cheek first. Babies have a rooting instinct.”

She gently rubs the nipple on his cheek. He does turn and take it in his mouth, but I don’t see him suck.

“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Regan says, sadly.

Christa touches her shoulder. “Give him a minute.”

Mitchell looks like he’s going to fall right back to sleep with the nipple still in his mouth. But then… then his mouth moves, and I can see him sucking. My eyes instantly go to Regan’s face. She’s beaming. Happy tears pool in her eyes as she watches our son take his very first bottle.

“He’s doing it!” She looks up and catches my eye.

“He’s a natural,” I say. “So are you.”

“Do you want to do half?”

I shake my head. “I’ll do the next one. This is all you.”

I stand and lean against the wall next to his incubator, watching the interaction between my son and his mother. Every once in a while, his eyes open and he looks directly at her. As soon as they close, she looks up at me. And there’s so much love there. She loves him as fiercely as I do. Perhaps even more, if that’s possible.

Christa steps next to me and whispers, “Looks like the news story left outtwovital pieces of information.”

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