Falesha and I started our parenthood journey separated, and my recollection of my daughter's arrival and the first day of life are so different; it was worth a guest post. Here is how I remember those early days.

The day started for me once we rolled into the operating room for Caliyah's arrival. Having to give birth in the OR amplified my anxiety times 100. So much to where I drenched my surgical mask in my anxiety blend of essential oil to help me keep calm, but it didn't work. I just remember hearing 50 cent In Da Club as the final pushes commended. Next thing you know, Caliyah Joy Johnson pops out and lets out a quick, high-pitched cry and then stopped. Just as the doctors had warned us in our previous appointments, she was having trouble breathing. At that moment, I had no idea that this would be the last time my family was whole until that following afternoon. I had to cut the umbilical cord quickly, and we were off. Doctors took her to another room; I went with her.

That room was incredibly hot. I'm surprised I didn't pass out. I was going through every single emotion from happy to hot to anxious. I was mainly stressed because the doctors couldn't get the breathing tubes down Caliyah's narrow nasal airway. I stood there as more doctors came in, to the point where they had seven doctors around her bed, and I ended up pushed to the back of the room. I thought something was seriously wrong, and that mixed with the temperature in the room, I needed to step out for air and water. After 15 minutes, they called me back in, and there she was finally intubated. I've never seen anything so beautiful. She was finally resting comfortably. We had been in that room for thirty minutes, and it was time to head to the NICU, but first, Falesha got to see her. Falesha was laying on her bed, still with four doctors working on her, and finally got to see our baby. Falesha got rolled to her room, and I followed our princess to the NICU.

Once we got there, they ran so many tests on my baby. It was hard to see her enclosed in this little box. In my mind, I was thinking about how scared she may have been; I was terrified in the situation. Doctors are coming in and out of the room talking to me while I'm trying to text Falesha and my family to let them know what's going on. Then SHE OPENED HER EYES. I reached into the box and grabbed her hand; as we made eye-contact. I needed her to know that she had her dad here with her. Most times, parents get skin to skin after birth, but between Falesha's 15 seconds and me holding her hand, that's all she had.

Being in the NICU alone sucked. Tests hadn't come back yet, so no one could tell me anything besides, "we are transporting you to SCH tonight." Wait, wtf?! Now I'm more panicked and anxious. I can't leave my baby. Luckily my in-laws were able to stay with Falesha. It was after 8 PM, and I hadn't eaten since noon. Those who know me know that if I don't eat after a few hours, I start getting REALLY sick. Surprisingly I held it together. I wouldn't have been able to eat anyway. This lovely couple, who also had a child in the NICU, asked if they could pray for me. I followed them to their room, and he, his wife, and mother all put their hands around me in a circle and started praying. I broke. I lost all emotional control with the ugliest of the cries. I didn't know how much I needed that. The night would've been hell without it.

Finally, the ambulance arrives to pick up Caliyah and take us to SCH. For some reason, they didn't want to take her upstairs to see Falesha before we left. To my surprise, I see Falesha getting wheeled down to her room in a wheelchair to see our baby and say her final goodbyes to us until the following day. I don't talk about this often, but seeing her getting loaded up in the ambulance was very traumatic for me. She was sedated, in a little box, and it's an ambulance. I still see it vividly to this day; it's hard to shake the feeling of seeing this.

It's now like almost 11:00 pm, and I'm sitting in the SCH NICU lobby. I had no idea where my baby was for over an hour. 11...1145...1215. Finally, they call me back to see her. No more box. She's free and in the bed with a breathing tube in her mouth; she's resting comfortably, so I'm at ease. SCH NICU is not for parents. There is barely space for a chair in the room with all the equipment. My parents left around 1:00 am, and it was just Cali and me. I couldn't believe that I was now a father—something I've wanted to be for years to reverse the absence of mine during my childhood. I'm destined to do it all differently. My daughter damn sure will know my love for her.

It was starting to getting late, and SCH still had no available rooms for parents. Uhh, wtf am I supposed to do? I can't go back to UW. I'm not driving home. I was prepared to sleep in her room on the recliner, but they won't allow that either. I ended the night, rubbing Cali's head and recording a video for Falesha, "Goodnight, mommy, we love you." As I hit send on the text, the nurse came in said they found me a room. Although I was still in the same building as Caliyah, I still couldn't sleep. My anxiety had me paranoid because they didn't have any more pagers, which means, if something happened overnight, they would call my cell. So that means leaving my phone on, but it was ringing off the hook most of the night with friends and family checking on me.

I tossed and turned for 4 hours, and then finally, at 6:00 am, I had to go to her room to see how she was doing. More tests were taking place, but I had the pleasure of meeting the most amazing primary nurse EVER. This person let me vent, cry, vent some more, and cry more and was very comforting. She took the time to explain things so I could understand the hectic process that is the NICU. She was adamant about me going back to my room and getting some sleep. Of course, I didn't listen.

At noon I got a call from Falesha, saying they're going to discharge her. My mind instantly went to Fam! You lost a liter of blood. Stay your ass in the bed. I got this. In all reality, I needed her. I was on my last leg physically. It's crazy what you can do to be there for your kids.

Falesha finally arrived! I went down to meet her in the lobby and get her up to speed. We could only have so many people in her room, so her parents sat outside. We walked into her room, and our family was finally whole. We both hovered over her bed and just started. As we did, Caliyah opened her eyes more and embraced us as she held our fingers so tight. We both laid on her and knew with our strength, faith, eagerness, and love, that we were going to be okay!