On December 12th, 3:45 p.m. MST, I received a text from my 29-weeks-pregnant wife saying that her water might have broken. At 12:07 a.m. the next morning, Bradley was born, 11 weeks early. Ninety minutes later, I was allowed to formally meet him.
He was two pounds, 11 ounces with long fingers and toes. He had wires and tubes everywhere and was attached to a breathing device called a CPAP that forced air into his lungs. Seeing him for the first time was scary, overwhelming, and one of the greatest moments of my life. I never knew I could love something this much in an instant. He came so early we did not even have a name until his second day of life. The nurses and doctors were nothing but positive that by end of his stay, he would lose all these wires and cords and just be Bradley.
I received a text from my …
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