1222blog
Amazing Grace
The absolute, most amazing day of my life, the one day in my existence when I felt that God had shown himself and I am not a religious man, came on April 19, 1995, the morning that a two pound, four ounce being, soon to be known as Philip Andrew, escaped from his mother after chilling for six months in the comfort of the womb when he decided enough was enough and that he wanted to see the world rather than wait the obligatory nine months.
Why he was in such a hurry is a mystery but out he came, this bloody, proto-person who was the size of a large sparrow, with a yellowish complexion and eyes glued shut and lips blue while shuddering to breathe. The tiny creature emerged and left alone in his new, frightening and unwelcoming world would certainly have perished as an example of a rejection by nature. But he did not because a team of doctors and nurses who represented years of schooling and experience in the most modern practices were brought to bear, all ready for my son and they converged on him, clipped off the life-giving cord which was no longer of any use and applied all kinds of tubes and wires and monitors that they expertly and so carefully connected, presenting the only chances for survival of the newborn that was as fragile as an eggshell. That Philip Andrew survived his ordeal by fire against all odds is testament to many forces, not least is his own, internal demand to survive that is imprinted on his DNA, no differently than has been the case throughout the history of mankind.
My wife and I barely caught a glimpse of the prematurely born infant as he and the mechanical life supports were whisked away by a team of men and women in white jackets who brought him to the strange, otherworldly place he would call home for the next three months, the incredibly amazing and definitely spiritual, neonatal intensive care unit at Morristown Memorial Hospital. It is not a place for the faint of heart but rather is more like a portal for parents who dare to enter a new and totally terrifying reality and forget about the norms left outside the doors and instead to lean heavily on hope and fate and yes, even for me, long moments of prayer. My child was one of dozens of tiny babies who were in various sorts of incubators and cribs, all balancing on the precipice between survival and destruction while their bodily functions are monitored over machines that are designed to let out loud buzzes and beeps to alert the medical personnel that they better act quickly because something is wrong.
Every one of the preemies gets the emergency treatment at least once and probably two or three or more times by nurses and doctors who would not surrender, while white-knuckled mothers and fathers with tightening chests and shortness of breath pace the waiting room for word on the success or failure of the procedures. The infants battle courageously with their fragility matched against their incredible strength.
More often, a nurse approaches with a smile and a sigh of relief and no words were necessary to tell the parent that the infant’s life would not be snuffed out that easily, at least not this time. But some are told that all was done that could be done and there was nothing left but the black void where the existence of God is all but a cruel joke and where parents will cry and scream and ask why and never get an acceptable answer.
There is absolutely no explanation why my son survived and the tiny sparrow in the neighboring incubator did not or why my boy had to go through such a terrifying introduction into the world when most other newborns arrive at full-term in a gentle, nurturing world. That Philip wanted so badly to thrive is something only he can understand and something that I will always view as nothing short of a gift from the gods.
My son has been the greatest joy to my life and he has matured into a bright, sensitive man. I don’t know if it portends anything for him but some of the greatest scientists, artists and world leaders were born prematurely. Among the notables are:
Stevie Wonder, the singer and songwriter, was born at 34 weeks gestation in 1950.
Sir Isaac Newton, one of the world’s most famous and influential scientists, weighed just three pounds at birth, and was not expected to live beyond a few hours.
The British prime minister, Sir Winston Churchill, wasn’t due until January of 1875 but he decided to arrive on Nov. 30, 1874.
The physicist and Nobel Prize winner, Albert Einstein, was born early in March 1879.
Mark Twain, the great American novelist, was born two months early and weighed just five pounds at birth.
Johannes Kepler, the great German astronomer and mathematician, was born two months early at a time when such early birth usually meant death.
Sidney Poitier, the actor, film director and diplomat, was born two months premature and he was not expected to survive.