Cat's in the Cradle

So, my son turned three a couple of weeks ago. It has been a sheer honor to watch him grow from an eight-week premature three-pound baby to a three-year-old thirty-four pound ball of running energy. And it is neat that I am noticing change in his communication and play as he has moved from a toddler to a little boy.

He was born at thirty-two weeks in an emergency surgery that lasted about twenty minutes. As my wife was having seizures and the toxins were poisoning her body, little I. was born. A 17-inch, 3 pound not so healthy boy.

When I first got to see him that night, the nurses said as I was going into the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) that there were a lot of tubes and needles in him. They say this, apparently, so people won’t be shocked or get a little traumatized at the sight of their child. I can certainly see why. But as I stared, for the first time at my son, I was grateful for every tube, for every needle, and for every monitor that was attached to him. Each one represented, to me, life. He had a fight on his hands, but he was alive.

Twice in the first three days, the doctors had to make a puncture and release trapped air that had escaped from his lungs, as they were not developed yet. They ran a blood test as he became very lethargic and they thought he had some kind of infection. They administered two blood transfusions hoping that would boost his resistance. And forty-two days later, he was released to go home from the NICU.

Since that time, we have watched him roll, crawl, stand, walk, run, run, and run. Our front room is connected on both sides to the hallway. This makes a perfect track for I.. He circles the track many times during the day playing train. He plays slow train, fast train, long train and short train. He likes trains.

Since that time, in the NICU, we have listened to him gurgle, coo, mumble, making one syllable sounds, to laughing, talking, singing, and yelling. He is very loud. Kind of nice, since the lungs were an issue at birth. He likes to yell. It is an “I’m having fun” yell.  Yes, yelling is his inside voice.

He is now inventing games on the spot to entertain himself and us. He is learning to play interactively with others. At first, toddlers seem to play together, but it can be more accurately described as playing alongside one another. Now, at three, he positions us in order to play chase or to throw the ball around. Instead of just watching his TV shows, he now responds to them with laughter or shock when something happens. He finds cats incredibly amusing to the chagrin of my wife who is not so much a cat person.

Since I was older when he was born to me, I hope and pray I will see him do other things.  I want to continue to watch him grow. I want to cheer him playing baseball. I want to, with pride, attend his graduation. I want to celebrate at his wedding and see the woman who will make him the happiest man on earth.

Thanks son, for letting me be a part of your young life.