My son was born in December 2000 at Cayuga Medical Center in upstate New York. Immediately, there were complications. He was a month premature, his lungs collapsed, and he was quickly diagnosed with pneumonia. A joyous day had turned immediately into one of the most stomach-churning experiences of my life.
For days we watched him, held him as best we could, and prayed fervently as he panted for air. When he wasn’t panting, he was crying and whimpering. Because of all the wires and tubes attached to him, it was hard to hold him, and nothing seemed to comfort him — except when we were able to bottle-feed the breast milk that my wife was faithfully (and painfully) pumping.
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