I had just buckled my seatbelt on the plane from LAX to Cincinnati when the inevitable happened. The man in the middle seat asked me if California was home for me. I responded, “No, actually I’m from Cincinnati. I’m headed home.”
Now this flight was a RedEye. It left LAX at 11:15pm Pacific time and would deposit me safely home at 6:30am EST. I chose this flight for 2 reasons: 1) I wanted to be home with my family by Friday evening and this was the only way to accomplish that and 2) I am incapable of staying awake on planes anyway, so knew I’d at least get a nap while trekking across the night sky.
Despite my cozy position against the window, the man added, “Were you here for work or vacation?”
“Work,” I uttered. “And you?”
“Yea. Work too. Well, what do you do?”
Obviously, unlike those of us in the NICU, he was not trained in observing states of alertness. I’d clearly transitioned (perhaps abruptly) from a quiet alert state to drowsy to light sleep in a matter of 2 minutes. (Bring a good book if you’re ever my traveling companion. I rarely remember take-off because I’m already asleep. No lie.)
I’ve learned that in situations like this, there’s usually a reason that the guy (or woman) in seat B keeps asking questions. So I straightened myself in the seat and told him what I do for a living. He got that look on his face, the one that says he understands all too well what I do. You know that look. You’ve had this experience.
Quietly he said, “I never knew anyone who had a preemie before. I never knew that women who ‘followed all the rules’ for a healthy pregnancy could deliver early. We didn’t realize she was in labor – she was only 26 weeks pregnant. I never knew a baby could be that small and survive. I guess we assumed this would never happen to us so we just didn’t pay attention.”
So we talked.
His daughter’s NICU story was a successful one. AND it was obvious that there was a lot of stress on the way to that success – the kind of stress NICU dads experience, never knowing who to worry about most, their wives or babies, and feeling helpless to dissolve either’s pain.
There is a solace in sharing these stories, for the professional caregivers and the families. It was an honor to listen to his. And it reminded me of so many families who find themselves thrust into a world they scarcely knew existed.
It’s hard to prepare people for an experience they don’t believe they’ll ever have. Awareness is the only way. Full scale, worldwide awareness. Families need to know all the best methods of prevention as well as the signs of preterm labor. And more.
Luckily, the March of Dimes is hard at work on raising that awareness. November is Prematurity Awareness Month® and Sunday the 17th is World Prematurity Day.
Watch the video below from the March of Dimes. Share the video on your Facebook page, or forward this newsletter. Do just ONE THING today to raise awareness about the #1 killer of newborns. The dad in seat B on the RedEye and millions of others will thank you.
Click here or click the image to watch.
