forty-three

May 5, 2017

Note: before you read this, look at time (watch, phone, whatever). stare at it, without any interruption for one full minute. listen to your breathing. be mindful of the noises you hear. remember that as you read this.

i am hyper aware to almost every minute of the day. these days it all seems to move in slow motion and it all blends just to make it feel as if i am looking from the outside at myself. i can literally feel my skin. i can feel the hairs in my arms when the wind blows. i feel my heart in my chest.

anytime my phone rings, my heart sinks. i look at the number. a knot plays twister on my throat. my vocal chords utter a dry hello and i listen, “This is Dr. so-and-so… the babies are okay…” as he went on to tell me about medical students who will be observing today and he was requesting permission for them to see the babies. the exhale my body releases in that precise moment comes from a depth i have never known.

i think about them constantly. i find myself looking at the ten billion pictures i’ve taken already or recalling how i’ve changed their diapers and saline-gauze-cleaned my babies. i’ve taken their temperatures, i’ve weighed their bodies, all while my hands are inside this incubator that’s perfectly warm and humid. i shake my hands briskly to warm them up. today, the humidity setting went down. now we’re counting down the days whem we can both hold them to our bodies.

i wash my hands every time i walk onto the unit. at the bedside, i hand sanitize like i wanna’ kill even my own flora just to keep my kids well. no germs on my babies, i think to myself. i have been sitting by their incubator-side for eight days now. i write to each of them. i tell them about any slight setbacks and all the small victories they’ve achieved so far. i update them on each other. i tell them about my day. then my Wife and i go together to each of them. we read and sing, we pray, we chant… ellos piden la bendicion y nosotras se la damos.

our babies are magical miracles. a micro perfection of fragility and strength.

for the most part, we get our updates from the nurses. unless there’s a new finding or change that warrants a conversation with the provider. as much as we like them, we would prefer not to have to speak with them.

the nurses tell us that the babies communicate with each other. “when one’s alarms go off, the brother likes to show him up,” they say smiling. i smile and think that my babies are experts in energy shifts already. that is the essence of their Light, a radiant energy that when combined with ours, forms a perfect balance in our lives. we love being with them. and they Love us. when we’re together, their measured markers improve. come to think of it… it’s probably the time during the day when i am taking the most breaths and feeling the most at ease.

i find myself with a heightened emotions. my senses are on high alert and the seconds seem eternal between minutes. i cannot hold an hour in a glass when my hands shake.

i am relearning how to breathe. i breathe in their gentle ease. my babies do it so much better than i do. i stare at them long enough to count the rise and fall of their chests: forty-three times in a minute.

cuarenta-y-tres respiraciones en un minuto. and i’m just trying to exhale after saying hello.

#52essays2017

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s