I Won't Let Him Become a Poor Child

“He might not make it through the night.”
A few hours after my second son was born, the doctor said that.


He was born about a month earlier than his due date.

Immediately after birth, he couldn't breathe on his own and was transported to a children's hospital outside the city.

It takes over an hour to get to the hospital using the expressway. I was the only one who arrived first and received that explanation.




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They said it was a rare disease that affects about one in 10,000 to 40,000 newborns.



I had experienced the moment of birth for four children before, but this was the first time it had started like this.

I remember being overwhelmed by a feeling I had never tasted before, a mix of shock and sadness.


Since things had been difficult since he was in the womb, I was somewhat prepared for the possibility that he might be born with some kind of disability, but I never expected his life to be in danger.

A completely unexpected situation.





I was the only one who had arrived at the hospital first and was told the facts, while my wife was still at the hospital where she gave birth to our second son, knowing nothing.




A few hours later, my wife was also put in an ambulance and arrived at the hospital.




My second son, who should have been crying with a bright red face, was sleeping quietly with tubes connected to his whole body without making a sound.


Even to us, as laypeople regarding medical matters,
it was clearly a dangerous state.

My wife couldn't stop crying, and I couldn't stop either.


The hospital room was filled only with the inorganic sounds of machines I had never seen before and
the sound of alarms.



“He might not make it through the night.”


Should I tell my wife these words or not...








Maybe it would have been better to tell her, but at that time, I chose not to.




She had just given birth and was in a difficult state; I couldn't possibly say something that would deal a further blow to her mental state.


And above all, I believed.


“The doctor said that, but he will definitely be okay. Whose child do you think he is? He's my child, right?
There's no need to make her worry unnecessarily.”


It might be more accurate to say that I was telling myself that.


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Thanks to the appropriate treatment by the doctors and nurses, our prayers, and above all, my second son's hard work, everything paid off, and we cleared the biggest hurdle.


However, he was still connected to tubes all over his body, and it was far from a state where we could feel at ease.

He was being kept alive by the skin of his teeth.


It wouldn't be strange if something happened at any moment.


I was reluctant to leave, but since our children were waiting for me and their grandparents, I went home for a while.

While taking care of the children, I lived in fear of when the call from the hospital would come.




After a five-day hospital stay, in a normal birth, the baby would come home with the mother, but at that time, I went to pick up only my wife, and my second son continued his treatment in the intensive care unit.

When I entered the hospital room, my wife looked clearly depressed.

Looking at her bloodshot eyes and swollen eyelids, even someone as insensitive as me could tell.

She had been crying all night.

My wife was crying in the car on the way home too.




“Because I had a late-life pregnancy,
I couldn't give birth to him in good health.”



“If I had spent my pregnancy more quietly...”




“Because of me, he's so small and has so many tubes connected to his body, it's so pitiful.”







All she could say were words blaming herself.





No.

That's not it.



It's not anyone's fault.




No one is to blame.




Since I didn't give birth to him, I can't truly understand my wife's feelings.

I had thought, “I must never say anything like thoughtless comfort,” but there were things I really didn't want her to misunderstand.

Look... I didn't give birth to him, so
I don't think I can fully understand your sadness or pain...
But I think you did the best you possibly could.

So I don't want you to blame yourself so much.

No one thinks you're at fault.

Also...







Let's stop thinking of our second son as a “poor child.”




Certainly, if people around us see him like that, they might say he's “pitiful.”
But if even we call him pitiful, he will truly become a “poor child.”

I don't think he's a poor child, and I will absolutely never let him become one.

Above all, I don't want him to think, “I am a poor child.”

Medical care is advanced now, and even after he grows up, there are various welfare facilities, and there are plenty of places that will accept him, so it's okay.

It will definitely work out.

He chose us to be his mom and dad, after all.

Let's not betray the expectation he had when he thought, “I'm sure those parents will be fine.”

Even if something doesn't go well and it seems like it won't work out, I will use all the knowledge and connections I have to make it work, so it will definitely be okay.

So let's end the crying in the car, and let's tell the children as cheerfully as possible.

If you really feel like you're going to cry, please try to hold it back only in front of the children.
When it's just the two of us, I'll take it all in as much as you need.

Of course, I don't have the slightest ability to make things work, nor do I have any significant connections.

But I wanted my wife to feel at ease, and above all, I wanted her to have hope.






It seems my feelings got through to her,
and my wife didn't cry after that day.







And three weeks after he was born.





A major surgery to remove one of his greatly swollen kidneys.



He was put under general anesthesia in his small body that weighed less than 3kg,
and the scheduled surgery time was 7 hours.




It was a truly anxious time where anything could happen.




The day before, our family visited three shrines to pray.

May our second son's surgery end safely and may he come home healthy.

Please.



Please, let it end without anything happening...




All we can do is pray to God.





During the surgery, I told my wife many times, “It's okay. It will definitely be okay.”

Thinking about it now, maybe I was telling myself that.








“It finished safely!”







Earlier than the scheduled time, the doctor came into the waiting room.




It seems his kidney had grown more than three times its original size, putting pressure on his stomach and intestines, but the removal was completed safely without any major bleeding.




Thank goodness!!

The doctor talked about various difficult things,
but I hardly remember the explanation.

We made it through.
I can continue to be a father to my five children.




I am very satisfied with that fact alone, and that is everything to me.





Even after the surgery was finished safely, the hospital life continued, and two months later, we went to a university hospital where more specialized treatment was possible.




In the end, he was discharged more than 3 months after birth.

Because his body is weak, even after being discharged, my second son ends up hospitalized every time he catches a small cold.


While having the grandparents come over, I worked, and with the back and forth between the hospital where my wife and child were, the nursery school, and elementary school,

I would think every time, “I can't do this unless there are two more of me!”

But surprisingly, it works out.




My second son will definitely come home.



Just having that peace of mind allows me to keep running as much as I need to.





I have many children, and they were all healthy, so
maybe I didn't quite understand the gratitude of “having healthy children.”





The days when the whole family can spend time together in good health are not a given.







My second son had a long hospital life,
so even now, he is almost never shy with strangers.


He didn't have time to be shy.


He smiles at everyone he meets.




No one who meets him for the first time would think he has a rare disease.



He lives as normally and healthily as that.




My second son, whose growth is just a little slower than other children, is living today while playing and fighting with his older brothers and sisters.





“Whoa! Don't chew on your sister's school bag!”


“It's dangerous, don't go over there!!”



The reason our house is noisy today is precisely because everyone is healthy.



There have been various things until now,
and there will surely be various things in the future.

But.

For now, at least, we are all together and spending our days as a family.




My second son.

You accomplished a great task as soon as you were born.
You overcame things that even adults would fear, time and time again.

So, from here on out, even if things get a little tough, you will surely be okay.


Honestly...
I still don't know if choosing Mom and Dad was the right answer for you.

But I will never let you think it was the wrong one.

That is the one thing I promise you.