I came home from the hospital today – such a bittersweet release. Search and Destroy remain sequestered in the NICU. They will be there for a minimum of two months.
In Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot,” the two main characters wait out the length of the absurdist play for Godot. Instead of the literal meaning of an impending in-person meeting, one could argue that Vladimir and Estragon (the aforementioned main characters) are in the midst of an existential crisis.
This is the surreal existence I now find myself in. I am a mother, a mommy of two precious twin boys. Jon and I are parents. Search and Destroy are ours to care for. But they are not yet really ours. You meet your children and you would do anything for them – then you are faced with the guilt of not having provided enough to keep them out of harm’s way.
During four out of the past six weeks, I was confined to a hospital room – stressed and worried about the boys. During the past six months, I worried and stressed about their health. I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital. I decided to pester my doctor first thing this morning. Because they didn’t have to confirm departure readiness with a pediatrician, I was sprung by noon. Regardless, I will spend every day of the next 10 weeks at the hospital.
Leaving the hospital without our children is an experience no one can really be prepared for. The concern for their well-being, the trauma of growing small people inside you and the crazy roller-coaster hormones easily leads one down the existentialist path questioning the meaning of human existence and the place of God among us. We cannot simply philosophize and debate – these are experiences we must live. Becoming a parent is the most challenging lesson I’ve ever undertaken, but none before comes close to the motivation and desire to be swimmingly successful.
Born three months premature, Search and Destroy are tiny. But they are practically perfect in all the littlest ways. Despite their young age, each already has a distinct personality and a desire to make their preferences known to the world. Neither like the wires attached to them; Search has already figured out how to rip the oxygen feed away from him. Destroy is not a fan of diaper changing and will scream his little lungs out until he’s certain you are aware of how he feels.
Physically small, they sure seem to think they’re still the big men on campus. And in any case, they are already proving to be little fighters. The doctors and nurses continue to share how impressed they are with their progress. (Naturally warning us all the while that the boys will face ups and downs as part of their development.) The nurses told us to focus on their health and leave the worrying to them – the medical staff and their fancy monitors.
I humbly ask all of you to send healthy vibes, good wishes, prayers and energy to the speedy development of Search Welker and Destroy Anthony. We are waiting for them. But unlike Vladimir and Estragon, Jon and I have met Search and Destroy. And we are waiting only to bring them home.
With that, I would like to introduce you all to our two sons: