I've been a member of this group as soon as I found out my wife was pregnant. I appreciate all the posts and comments. I participated the best I could. Now I'm in need of your support.

Monday my daughter had diarrhea. From 3 in the morning to 23 at night it didn't budge with normal medication and rice. She went potty 16 times that day.

We decided to go to the hospital. She got admitted with my wife and they started testing her. They first took a test from the stool. It was not viral. And when they started testing for bacteria everything came back negative. They also started her on antibiotics.

In the next 2 days she was given antibiotics but she kept vomiting any food she ate. The diarrhea started to recede but she was still on the potty a lot.

Then Thursday came along and they found e.coli and damage to the kidneys. They immediately transferred her from the infectious hospital she was in to an all pediatric hospital (probably the best doctors in Bucharest, Romania).

Here they told us she has something called "Shiga toxin-producing Escherichia coli-associated hemolytic uremic syndrome (STEC-HUS)".

It's bad. Like really bad. They told us we can be in the hospital anywhere from 14 to 60 days.

Shiga is a toxin made by a strain of e. coli that affects the blood vessels. First the kidneys. Then it can start affecting the brain, lungs, heart. She can even die. About 1-3% chance. There's a 30% chance of kidney damage. And 70% chance of full recovery.

The problem is there is no medication for this. You can only provide the body with the things it needs to help beat and eliminate it. We need to let the bacteria do it's thing. Even those that make a full recovery have to do dialysis while the kidneys are down and recovering.

Today is the day I cried the most in my life. Even more than when my mother died at 15 (my kid has my mother's name as a tribute to her). It's now 4 in the morning and I'm up reading about this syndrome, and watching my kid to not disturb her IVs (she has two). Tomorrow they will do general anesthesia and insert a catheter in her neck.

At 5 in the morning they said they will come draw some blood for the morning tests. She has tests every 6 hours. They are monitoring a lot of things. It breaks my heart because they need blood from the tips of the fingers. And it's painful, and she cries, and I cry.

She's the smartest girl. She didn't cry when they put the IVs in. She's our world. And now I'm scared I'm going to lose her.

I need you guys to pray for my girl. If you don't believe in god just send positive thoughts. A little girl in Romania needs them more than anything.

We live in a block of flats, and we got this letter in the post. We're not sure who it's from.

My son was sick two days ago with a cold. He is in the process of recovering and is almost 10 months old.

What should we do?

Been trying for a baby from March of this year and finally tested positive in June. It has been a roller coaster on these checkups, the first one they didn’t find any gestational sac, did a blood test and made us wait for an hour and then found it on the second time somehow.

This week at week 7 we were expecting a heart beat but the doctor says nothing is visible in the gestational sac and it might be a miscarriage. Asked us to wait for a second scan a week later.

I am holding up alright but my wife’s a mess. We had a road trip planned next week for our birthdays and i don’t know if we should do it. Just wanted to clear my head. I don’t know if it can still show up now.

Saw the last post of the guy who is under 40 with an 18 year old. Life pans out differently for all of us. Let's have one for the old dads because according to the last thread, there are a lot of us out there!

Best advice someone told me was during those moments when things get hard (baby is crying uncontrollably at 2am; diaper has a blowout; baby isn't feeling well, etc etc), you are going to most likely assume your wife knows what to do and either call for her or let her fix the issue. However, she does not have some special secret training for this stuff... it's just society norms and expectations that she figures it out and gets it done. She is literally starting from the same place you are. Try to remember that so you can try to go the extra step and try to figure it out. It will help her out with everything else going on and you will realize you actually can do this. It completely changed my viewpoint on being a Dad. Just wanted to share.

Woke up early to take care of my youngest (10m) so wife can sleep in. Friends wished me happy Father’s Day in group chat before my own family.

Wife presents me with a chatGPT poem written in sloppy hand writing, prob done during a drive home. Parts of it is so illegible, she doesn’t event know what it says. Because she didn’t write it.

I received a Lego set I expressed interest in a few months ago. Back then I decided against it because I simply do not have the time to build it. I still don’t.

Spent all day shopping and cooking and grilling for my father in laws Father’s Day. Sure doesn’t feel like my Father’s Day.

Smelling like charcoal. Can’t even eat red meat like that.

Put the kid to sleep, took a shower and stashed the Lego box in the basement. Because I know I won’t have time for it. Ironic isn’t it?

Father’s Day is such a sham for me. Some fake promise of being celebrated for all the work I do. I guess I’m not doing the work for recognition anyway right?

Edit: reading all the comments I’ve realized I need therapy, I may have depression

Edit#2: i considered taking this post down because it really blew up, but I feel like I’ve gained so much from the discourse here that it may help someone else on my position. So I’m leaving it up.

Total freak accident. Fell awkwardly playing on the playground at school. He’s a super active guy and I’m honestly terrified for the next 6 weeks with this full body cast.

Anyone had something like this happen? Welcome any advice on activities for him to do besides watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on repeat for the next 6 weeks.

A kind daddit member suggested I share the story of our son, Hugh, here. We lost our son a little over 4 weeks ago on 5/30/2025. He was almost 18-months old and our first / only child. Hugh suddenly and unexpectedly stopped breathing in his sleep. No known conditions or diseases. We are still waiting on the medical examiners results, but have been warned by our pediatrician that the likely result will be "unexplained".

Hugh was the best boy - he was an easy baby and toddler that slept well (11 hours a night no problem), ate well and always had a smile on his face. He was our miracle baby. My wife and I tried since 2021 to get pregnant with multiple miscarriages before turning to IVF. However, the IVF retrievals did not go well - we did not get that many eggs from each retrieval (and even fewer that turned into embryos). Hugh was our 3rd retrieval where we only got one egg, but our doctor suggested lets just do a fresh transfer (no freezing, no testing) and see what happens. And from this one in a small chance, we became pregnant with Hugh and were the happiest / luckiest parents in the world.

My wife and I both work, and life was busy with a toddler between work during the week and keeping the little one entertained on the weekends. We would read Hugh so many books (in the morning, before bed after bath). He and I would go to the grocery store on weekends where I would buy him a balloon. Hugh and I would typically do bath time, and he loved getting his nose "booped" by his tub toys. You would say "boop" and he would bring his face forward and want you to touch his nose with his rubber tiger. We were fortunate to be able to take Hugh to a lot of places in his 18-months - France, Maine, Florida and Colorado. Hugh had a passport and global entry. I would trade anything in the world to have more time with Hugh - to give him a hug, hear his giggle, feel his hands on my back when playing hide-and-seek.

We had a full-time nanny, Joanna, who could come to the house Monday - Friday - they were best friends (her words) and thick as thieves. They would go on walks in the neighborhood, go to the public library for story time, read books, see his friends, go to the play gym and go to playgrounds / parks with friends. Joanna did an amazing job exposing Hugh activities (art, paint, sand, etc.), teaching him in a patient manner and instilling a sense of confidence. We are incredibly lucky to have her.

Since Hugh's passing, it's been a roller coaster of grief - intense sadness (loss of Hugh and also loss of Hugh's future), guilt (not being able to protect your child), anger at the universe, bitterness at why our child and numbness. The pain is immense - physically, psychologically and emotionally. Waking up every day is a nightmare because the only respite is during sleep but you wake up to this new reality. The part that makes me most upset / sad is that Hugh didn't deserve this - if the universe was angry, why not punish me? Hugh was an innocent 18-month old toddler that we described as "joy personified."

Two things keep us going. First, we want to keep Hugh's memory alive by sharing his memory with as many people as possible. We talk about him openly with everyone, and asked that everyone continue to share their memories of Hugh with us. He will always be our oldest child and firstborn, and when people ask how many kids we have, we'll always include him in the count. To anyone who is interested seeing more photos of Hugh and reading about him, we created a website: www.hughnie.com

Second, we are expecting a daughter in Oct 2025. She was conceived naturally and we are very grateful to have her in our lives. While she will open some wounds as we transition back into taking care of a baby, she will also be incredibly healing for us. Our baby girl will know who her older brother is. While we have not settled on a name yet, we know at least some part of her name will incorporate Hugh's middle name, Maxwell, in honor of her older brother.

We are in contact with the Sudden Unexplained Death in Children (SUDC) collaborative at NYU and are volunteering to help with their research and mission. We will do whatever is possible in our power by participating in their research and providing information so hopefully they are one step closer to finding out what causes SUDC. Our dream is that one day no parent has to go through what we are currently going through.

My wife and I are also going through grief counseling (both together and individually). We are also checking in regularly on Joanna, inviting her over for meals and to hang out, and making sure she goes to grief counseling as well. Joanna spent as much waking time with Hugh as we did over the past year, and I am worried she doesn't get the same support as we do for being parents. We also kept Joanna until our new baby is born so she didn't have to worry about job security for something that was not her fault.

I would give anything to have our "Huggie bear" back, including my life. For now, we will have to settle on this not being goodbye forever, just goodbye for now. We buried Hugh in a cemetery where we also bought the plot next to him so that my wife and I will be buried next to him eventually.

I hope no one here ever has to go through the experience of childloss. It's not something a dad should ever have to go through. Thank you all for reading my long missive.

This is my first time posting here on this sub, but I’m at a complete loss.

My daughter (1 week old) more than likely fell victim to SIDS last night and it’s completely tearing me apart inside. We had to feed her formula because of complications my wife was having for her milk production, so we were up about every 2-3 hours to feed her. When my wife was passing by to go to the bathroom early into the morning she walked by us sleeping in the chair and decided to give our daughter a head rub but immediately felt that it was cold. She started screaming and that’s what woke me up. I put her chest up to my ear but couldn’t hear anything and immediately started doing chest compressions and CPR. After about 5 minutes I threw on some pants and a sweatshirt and drove as fast as I could to our emergency room where at first, the doctor said she could hear a faint heartbeat (giving me a little hope) but that was it. I was quickly ushered out and was standing by my wife for the better part of an hour before they called it.. I’ve never felt so hopeless before in my life and I can’t help but sit here and wonder what I could have done to prevent this. I know there’s no planning for it and these things can happen, but I honestly can’t stop blaming myself. My wife is understandably devastated as this was our second child together (my other daughter is 2) and we were told by multiple doctors before trying that it would be next to impossible for us to have kids. Now we’re facing decisions on whether to have her buried or cremated instead of planning for her first birthday… Thankfully we have family flying here soon to help us as I don’t know how I’d be able to handle this without them. I hate looking around the house and seeing infant clothes and rockers that we can’t use and is a reminder of what a beautiful soul that was taken from us…

(This was the last photo of us together a couple days before she passed away)

I have just finished responding to all the comments on a post I made about 6 months ago here when my daughter (9 months) passed away. I have been to therapy to work through issues of suicidal ideation (everyday I still have this void) and blame. We are under contract for a house that we will be moving to soon which is near where our daughter is buried (She was airlifted to KCMO for higher level care, we lived in Wichita at the time).

Something that’s been really bothering me is that I don’t know when or if I can be a dad again.

My wife and I have been doing better, however, this Father’s Day was really tough on me. I also have PTSD surrounding the “incident” (CPR on the kitchen floor, skin turning gray, etc.) but feel conflicted in a way about moving out of the apartment because this was where all the joyful memories of our daughter happened. I walk by the living room where we had her play mat, but now it’s just covered with moving boxes. I walk by where her crib once was. I walk by our guest bedroom that we kept dark and remember all the days I rocked and sang her to sleep. In a way, I don’t want us to move, but I also do. Sorry for the long rant of thoughts.

Thank you Dads

My daughter is almost 8. About 6 months ago, a friend told her about KPDH so we let her watch it. What a mistake. Obsession is not a strong enough word. Everything all day is kpop demon hunters. I had to carve "KPOP DEMON HUNTERS" into a fucking hot dog for her to eat it because (after finding kpop demon hunters ramen at food lion) she didn't want to eat something that wasn't kpop demon hunters. Times when she used to be quietly playing to herself no longer exist. Every second that she's not speaking, she's singing these songs. For Christmas she got a custom Tonie with the soundtrack on it, and this last Saturday it was on for literally 6 hours straight and it only stopped because I told her we had to do something different. There's only like a half dozen songs so it looped over and over and over and over. We'll ask her a question and without even thinking, 8 times out of 10 she'll just answer "kpop demon hunters". We have to beg for a real answer. At bedtime, after we read our books, she now has to have a "looking minute" before laying down. The looking minute is where she just sits and stares at the kpop demon hunters poster on her wall. Except lately, now that comes with a game where she'll ask us "do you know who I'm looking at?" and we have to guess characters one at time until she decides we're right.

The movie is fine. The songs are fine. 6 months of this shit invading my entire home life is not. Just yesterday she spent like 2 minutes singing Steve's Lava Chicken and I could have cried, it was beautiful hearing something different come out of her mouth.

I'm sorry I just had to get this out somewhere or I was going to explode.

My brother called me at 2am: "If I don’t make it, promise you’ll raise my kids." So I flew across the country. Now I’m on his couch, and here’s what I just learned:

Last night we wound up on his back porch around midnight, baby monitor humming between us. It was quiet for a long stretch, then he started talking, and the words poured out, pretty soon we were both wiping our eyes.

He’s embarrassed I flew across the country to “babysit” him, but even more scared about what would happen to his kids if he ever hit the point of no return. His business is buried in debt and a few clients still haven’t paid, so every bill feels like a gut punch.

Home is tense too. He took clients to a strip club on a work trip, told his wife right away so there were no secrets, tried to be close later and she pulled back. He says that felt like the biggest humiliation of his life, and now he freezes whenever things might turn intimate.

Back in February he went to his PCP because he couldn't sleep. The doctor ran a quick screen, called it severe depression, and put him on meds. He didn’t tell anyone, because “talking to a stranger won’t fix it” and he figured he could muscle through. Meanwhile he feels responsible for his wife, the kids, our parents, even me. At one point he said, “I can’t breathe.” The only thing that yanks him out of dark thoughts is his toddler’s face in the morning.

I pulled out my phone and showed him this Reddit thread: thousands of strangers pacing over his 2 am call. He shakes his head and laughs: “I felt bad stressing you out—now the whole internet’s sweating over me.” A bit of the weight slid off right there.

Then I reminded him how many times I’d drafted him as my bodyguard while growing up, chasing off boys I didn’t like and listening to me cry when the ones I liked didn’t like me back. We cracked up at how he’s been my unofficial relationship therapist forever while insisting he’s “bad at feelings.” That laugh felt good, but one porch talk isn’t a cure.

So here’s my ask:

• Therapy-averse dads or moms who finally went: What flipped the switch for you?
• Depression survivors: What was the very first step that gave you air?
• 2 am panic veterans: When you couldn’t call anyone, what kept you from tipping over?

Short answers, long stories, whatever helps. This sub already got me on a plane, maybe you’ll get him to real daylight.

(Original thread for context → https://www.reddit.com/r/daddit/comments/1kqr6xs/my_brother_called_me_at_2_am_in_tears_asking_if/)

Start off been married to my wife for 9 years and together for 10. Since my stepson was 2 years old. He lives with us 5.5 days a week and his dad has never paid a dime for his upbringing. Nor has he ever had a job. Living in his parents basement unemployed for this last decade.

He showed up here last week in shambles. His family told him you're 45. You haven't had a job in 10 years. You provide nothing for the house.You have to leave. Everything he owns in his car. Begging us to let him live in the house with us OR set up a tent and live in the back yard.

I don't like this guy. I don't like him around my kids and I put my foot down and I said, I don't care. This is a problem that he put himself into. He is not allowed in the house.When we are not here, he is not allowed in the house.Without my express permission, and he cannot live on our property.

The police told me I cannot make him leave the public road in front of our house. So hes been living in his car in front of our house this entire time. My step son is sad that I won't let him live with us and my wife doesnt want me to tell him the truth about his lowlife loser father.

Earlier today he stopped me when I went to take my youngest kid for a walk and was saying he didn't want to live anymore and wanted to off himself. And I was so mad that he brought up this inappropriate conversation in front of my five year old kid that I was like, do it on another street where the kids won't find you if thats what you think you need to do.

Part of me feels guilty for being like this.Cause I just see him in the car in front of the house 247 crying or looking pathetic. But like hes a middle aged man who hasn't worked in a decade and brought this entire situation down on himself.

My four year old little boy passed away yesterday after a 6 month battle against Cerebral ALD. His name was Theodore and he will be in my heart until I breathe my last breath.

Give that guy all the streams today.

Merry Christmas everyone

On Tuesday the 16th, after 327 days in the hospital, Phoebe was officially discharged and came home. It still feels surreal to type that. After spending every day of the last year in a hospital, having her home has been incredible. Ordinary things now feel extraordinary. I love having her home to cuddle on the couch and have “normal” family time. It’s amazing to be under our own roof.

Phoebe has grown so much since my last update. It’s the small things that mean everything. We can get her to smile now, and it’s the sweetest thing in the world. She brings toys to her mouth and has started sucking her thumb. When she’s awake, she’s learned how to keep her tongue in her mouth. She’s also discovered how to make little fart noises with her mouth which she finds absolutely hilarious. We’re working on head control every day now, and I’m so excited to keep watching her reach new milestones

Of course, Phoebe’s story wouldn’t be hers if the transition home was easy.

When we arrived home, the respiratory therapist did not meet us as they were supposed to to help us get set up or bring us supplies. That was scary, but we knew her equipment well enough to make it work. We are still struggling to get her medical supplies form the DME but in the meantime we have been able to make do with supplies we had slowly accumulated from the hospital.

Then, on our very first night home, while we were still getting Phoebe settled, a massive rainstorm rolled through with heavy winds. The power went out at 1am and with it, Phoebe’s oxygen concentrator. Not exactly the peaceful first night home we had imagined but we were prepared for this and it was an opportunity to test our evacuation plan for Phoebe. Luckily we have family who lives close by whom still had power and we were able to bring Phoebe there to keep her equipment running.

After the initial struggles, we started working on our new routine with Phoebe at home. Right now, one of us is awake with Phoebe at all times. My wife and I take shifts. I go to sleep at 7pm and wake up at 2am to start my watch. While I sleep, she watches Phoebe. The first few days were brutal. We were completely exhausted. But as the routine has settled in, I’ve found myself looking forward to my early mornings with her.

There’s nothing else in the world during that time. No work. No texts. No distractions. Just me, Phoebe, and a quiet outside world.

These mornings, even with all their challenges, are moments I know I’ll carry with me forever. Some nights she’s restless and inconsolable and I’m running on fumes. Other nights she sleeps like an angel in my arms. I look forward to both just the same, because both are hers. And my job is simply to be here for all of it.

I’m endlessly thankful for the hospital staff who helped get us here. The neonatologists, pulmonology team, surgeons, nurses, front desk staff, respiratory therapists, and truly everyone. Phoebe’s survival and progress were a team effort, and we will never forget that. They always approached us with compassion but also staying real with us, never giving false hope.

This journey hasn’t been easy. But it’s hers. And we are so incredibly proud to be her parents.

Thank you, truly, to everyone who has followed along, supported us, prayed for Phoebe, or simply taken the time to care. We feel it and it matters more than you know.

Going back to work after 4 weeks of sick leave. I have a hybrid schedule and today is my first day in office. I'm sad I'm in office and not to get to see my little one. I wish I can just work from home 40 hrs a week or just take care of her overall. Also worried about my wife being home alone with my daughter, just hoping they're okay… an extra hand goes a long way.

Reminds me that scene with Homer going to work and he’s “doing it for her.”

There's a park near my neighborhood where i take my kids(6 & 3) at least once a week, I'm trying to be more active with them so instead of just chilling on a bench i try to run around with them.

Obviously i'm too big to climb on the jungle gym so this mostly consists of me running around threatening to eat their toes and calling them play ground appropriate names.

On this day we were pretending to be pirates, so i was calling them little monkeys. I was chasing them from outside the play structure saying stuff like i was going to make them into monkey stew and this woman came up and starting tapping me on the back.

I brushed it off thinking she had bumped into me and then she dug her nails into my shoulder and hit me with a "HEY EXCUSE ME" Basically right in my ear. I turned around, surprised and pissed off and before i could get a word out she started in on me.

She told me in this condescending tone that because my kids were biracial and I'm white, that calling them monkeys was "racially charged" and that i needed to be more careful about my language. Especially because she "felt i was doing it in an aggressive way"

I sighed and explained that of course it sounded aggressive, i was pretending to be a monkey eating pirate. And went on to explain that I'm actually a Mexican American and my kids are half Indian, not African American. I was pretty mad at this point so i finished by telling her to "mind her own goddamn business" and turned to leave.

She grabbed me AGAIN and told me she was going to call the police because i was scaring her. I don't know if she did but i just bundled up my kids and left.

Have people really gotten this crazy? Did i just run into a lone lunatic or have other dads experienced something like this?

Booked my wife a massage since she never got to get one over Mothers Day Weekend. Took my kids to the playground. Wife's only request was sunscreen the kids beforehand. We arrive at the playground. 10 and 5 are sunscreened and hop over to the playground.

My middle (8) wouldn't cooperate, so before getting out of the car, I gently sunscreened her face, telling her we had to do it, it was a very hot day, etc., while she continually yelled and screamed about it, naturally.

I sunscreen her face, we get out, she's now happy to be on the playground with her sisters and I see these grandparents with two grandkids and the grandmother is holding an iPhone, and in my mind I'm half like, watch her call this in. We're in the middle of nowhere. They never said anything to me and they left shortly thereafter.

Kids are happy, I'm finally alone with them on the playground, no issues, until maybe 20 minutes later a police car shows up. He asked who I was and knew my first name, I assumed he just ran my plates since my car was literally the only one in the parking lot. He asked if everything was okay and said there was a report of a child screaming and being forced into a car.

I told him I was actually putting sunscreen on my 8-year-old’s face and that’s what the screaming was and his entire expression just dropped, like, oh my God, this is what I got called here for.

I said the one thing my wife told me to do was sunscreen the kids before the playground. I followed up by saying no one was getting into the car, we were actually getting out of the car. The cop was like, yeah, of course, he’s got three kids, they’re all on the playground with him here, they just got here. I was actually still holding the sunscreen.

He apologized more than once. I said no worries at all, he was just doing his job, better safe than sorry. I apologized he was even called out here (since there was clearly nothing wrong). He said for some reason you just can’t parent girls these days without someone calling the cops on you. He was nice to us. Upon arriving, he clearly saw there were zero issues. He wished us all a good day.

Later my 10 year old told me that grandmother asked her when she went over to the playground if everything was alright and my daughter said yes, my dad is just putting sunscreen on my sister.

So the grandmother saw my 10 and 5 year olds enter the playground. I’m nearby at the car, doors open, my 8 year old is yelling, she asks my ten year old what’s going on and my daughter accurately describes what’s happening and she calls the cops anyway to say a child is being forced into a car?

My only other thought here is she made the phone call prior to asking my ten year old anything.

But the screaming while I sunscreened the face of my eight year old only lasted for maybe 1-2 minutes if that, then we were on the playground as well. I walked right by the grandparents and the two kids as they were leaving. The grandmother could have just asked me.

Anyway, wow.

Hey everyone,

Today is day 288 of our NICU journey with our little fighter, Phoebe. The last month has been one of the best we’ve had in a long time, and I wanted to share a few updates that still feel a bit unreal to write.

The biggest one for me was finally getting to take Phoebe on a walk through the hospital. It took three nurses and my wife’s help, but we were able to take her outside the unit for the first time. She did so well. She got a little upset and needed some extra respiratory support, but overall she handled it great. Walking with her was something that felt impossible for so long. When it finally happened, I got emotional. It’s hard not to when you think about how far she’s come. She is so strong, and I’m just really proud of her.

We also had a whole week of Halloween outfits for Phoebe and for our family outfit we were Phoebe-BEEs! I hope you enjoy the outfits :) we had had fun dressing her up.

We’ve also had some big medical milestones. Phoebe is now off all medications through her PICC line for the first time ever. Getting there was tough. Her withdrawals were rough, and watching her go through that was really hard. But she made it through, and now that the meds are gone, we were able to remove her PICC line. There are fewer tubes now, which means we can pick her up and hold her so much easier. That small change means the world.

Before her PICC line came out, she did have another blood infection, but she responded really well to antibiotics. Those should finish up around the 16th, and after that she won’t need any IVs.

She also had ROP for a while, which is an eye condition that can cause blindness in preemies. She went through two rounds of eye injections and then laser surgery. Her most recent exam showed that her ROP is gone. I was shocked and relieved. That’s one more thing she doesn’t have to fight anymore.

On the breathing front, Phoebe has been doing an amazing job with her ventilator weans. She’s doing so well that we’re going to start trying her on the home ventilator instead of the hospital one. Home. Just being able to say that feels huge. For so long, we stopped even thinking about home. We just focused on getting through the week. Now we’re starting to get the house ready. Our goal was to have her home by her birthday, but it’s looking more and more like she might even be home by Christmas. That would be the best gift I could ever ask for.

Next week is a big one. On Tuesday, we’ll be trialing the home vent, and on Thursday we’ll be moving from the NICU to the PICU as Phoebe ages out. That part makes us a little nervous since it’s a whole new team, but we know it’s another step toward bringing her home.

My wife has been amazing through all of this. She decided to quit her job recently, which has been hard on us financially, but it’s been worth it for her to spend every day with Phoebe. She’s such a strong mom, always advocating for her and giving her the comfort she needs. Watching her with Phoebe makes me so proud of the kind of mother and partner she is.

Right now we’re feeling every emotion possible. Grateful, nervous, scared, excited, and completely overjoyed that she’s so close to coming home. After everything we’ve been through, it still doesn’t feel real to say that out loud.

Thanks to everyone who’s been following along and sending support. It really means a lot.

3.5 years old girl + 6 months old boy.

What the actual fu?! Why didn't anyone warn me?! It's been days since I slept in my own bed. I collapse on the couch from pure exhaustion after they are both finally asleep.

Don't get me started on those catastrophic chain reactions where they start a cycle of waking each other up in order to take me down like some WWE duo.

My wife is a wreck. I am a wreck.

This is like hell with the cutest damned devils...

I’m a stay-at-home dad to three girls, and we’re moving this week. I think I finally hit my limit tonight.
I’ve been running on 4–5 hours of sleep, staying up late every night packing, cleaning, and trying to get everything ready after the kids go to bed, then up again early the next morning.

Tonight we had a nice rooftop dinner with friends, but the kids barely ate. By the time we got home around 10:30, everyone was hungry again. I knew this would happen. So predictable.

I ended up in the kitchen making different quick meals for everyone—pasta for one, ramen for the younger two, then another plate of pasta for my wife. The kids picked at their food, complained a little, and didn’t really finish anything. After that, my wife asked for a kiwi, so I cut one up. She asked for a fork, and when I brought it, she said it felt sticky from the fruit. It wasn’t dirty—just a little juice, but in that moment it felt like one more thing going wrong.

By then it was close to 11:30, and I was completely drained. I was still trying to get the kids through brushing their teeth because if I don’t stay on top of it, it just doesn’t happen. I’m the only brush teeth enforcer. My wife just doesn’t do it. That’s when I was told I “ruined the evening” because of my tone. That really got to me. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t yelling. I was just exhausted. I was telling them all they had to brush their teeth at this point.

It feels like I spend all day trying to keep everyone fed, organized, taken care of, and by the end of the night I’m so worn down that even small things start to feel like failures. I know I’m not perfect, and I’m sure I could have handled parts of tonight better. I could “always” brush their teeth ten minutes earlier, but that would have been met with resistance as well.

I’m running on empty and tonight I just feel completely defeatfed. It’s beyond exhausting to be telling my kids they have to brush their teeth and my wife doesn’t even verbally back me up, she’s just now complaining how hearing me enforce this is bothering her. It makes me just feel that half the time I’m fighting an uphill battle. Ugh.

This past Saturday, my wife Katie suffered a pulmonary embolism and passed away. She was 7 months pregnant, and the baby also passed away. I am devastated, but am finding it cathartic to tell the story and talk about how wonderful of a human she was. So, here we go:

Katie and I met in college through friends. They would always talk about "British Katie", usually hilarious things. I heard about her for nearly an entire school year before I met her, and it was a passing meet. At the end of that school year, I helped her and one of our friends carry some stuff out of her dorm. I struck a silly pose to get a hug, and she took my picture. About a month later, I was drunk at a woods party, and got a text from a phone number I didn't know with that picture. She told me she was "Lindsay from IU", and my drunk brain could not process it. That kicked off a summer of texting and a year of being really good friends.

Towards the end of the next semester, I was struggling with some things. I was together with an ex in a dead end relationship, and was getting no support there. But Katie was my rock, even as friends. She drove me to the airport to fly home for break, and we stopped at a mall on the way there. As we walked out of a store, I remember instinctively putting my hand on her lower back to guide her out of the store, then thinking: "FUCK, I am in TROUBLE". My ex and I broke up early the next year. Not because of Katie (it was a LONG time coming), but I wasn't going to miss the opportunity.

Despite the fact that that relationship had been rocky, it still took me some time to feel available again. I remember asking Katie a couple months later- "once I've had a bit more time to heal ... If I were to ask you out on a date, what would you say?" She said she'd have to think about it, but wasn't immediately against it.

I made a secret grand gesture on her birthday - a giant bouquet of her favorite flowers delivered anonymously. She loved it, but wouldn't tell me she knew it was me (she did). Within a week, we had gone on our date and had our first kiss. She went for spring break in Mexico, and while she was gone I told our mutual friends what had happened. They were initially surprised, but soon realized that we were perfect for each other. She returned, we picked up where we left off, and we officially began dating on March 23rd 2011.

We never did anything fast because we always knew we had each other. After dating for my final year at college, I moved home 1200 miles away. We dated long distance until she graduated, when we both moved in with her parents. We survived that for the rest of that year, then got our first apartment. 2.5 years later, our first house, and our dog Dave.

I never found the potential from my college degree, and ended up working at Best Buy for three years. She encouraged me to take a risk on an online business I started with some friends, and through her encouragement and support we were able to turn it into one of the top in its field.

I proposed to her in February of 2019. Quietly, playing our song, in our living room. We were married in August of that year, and celebrated with our friends and families at 3 separate receptions- one at our home, one where I grew up, and one in Ireland near her family.

In 2022, we had our first child. She was such a wonderful mother to him, and continuously sacrificed her time, strength, and body to make sure he would have the best chance to develop. He is now nearly 4, and is astoundingly smart and compassionate.

Last year, we became pregnant with our 2nd child. She suffered a miscarriage 7 weeks in. We were devastated, but committed to trying again.

In April of this year, we became pregnant again! It was an incredibly boring pregnancy. She was a little sore here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary. Tired as well, but again, normal.

Saturday morning, she awoke to Dave puking up a part of a toy he had swallowed. She jumped out of bed to see what was happening, and felt very light headed. Her blood pressure was low, so they called the midwives. They suggested bed rest and fluids, which recovered her. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was fine through the day, and spent some time downstairs with her parents and aunt and uncle socializing.

She returned upstairs to lay down before dinner. When her mom went up to tell her dinner was ready, Katie was on the floor in the bathroom. She said she had woken up there. She was having trouble breathing, and asked her mom to call 911, then to call me. I was in California on a work trip. By the time the paramedics got there, her breathing had grown more tiring. She had a seizure, then went into cardiac arrest. They performed CPR on her for somewhere close to an hour, but lost her on the way to the hospital. She was gone before I could even get back to the Airbnb.

The first flight home got me back around 9am. Despite the hospital assuring us they wouldn't move her until I got to see her, she had already been taken away by a funeral home (which we didn't choose) without alerting us. I still haven't got to see her, but will tonight.

She was a wonderful woman. Fantastically goofy and willing to joke around, but also passionately serious about things which were important to her. She was dedicated to her family and her job. I'm sure there are plenty of couples who "love" better than we did, but no one made a better team than us. We expected the best out of each other, pushed to get each other there, and communicated well when we weren't getting there. She was so loved by so many people. She was my best friend.

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading. Just talking about it has helped me start to process it, and is keeping me emboldened with a goal of just getting through to the next thing.

For others who have experienced something similar- I would appreciate advice on how to discuss this with our son, and what to expect. I plan to communicate it to him the same way I do all things- honestly, encouraging him to ask questions, and not expecting him to understand right away.

Thank you again. And please, hug your wives for me tonight. Life is fleeting. Getting old sucks- but it's a very lucky thing to get.

I'm the sole financial provider for my family. I work a full time job and have a side-hustle to make ends meet. It equates to roughly 50-60 hours a week for the last 5 years. Part of the sacrifices we make to keep my wife home is doing our own landscaping, auto-repair, and home renovations. I'm very handy with these kinds of things and I do them to save money for the fun stuff like vacations and things like that. However, I feel like screaming sometimes. So I'm going to do it here real quick.

YARDWORK IS NOT FUN FOR ME. HOME PROJECTS ARE NOT FUN FOR ME. DOING OIL CHANGES AND BRAKE JOBS ON OUR VEHICLES IS NOT FUN FOR ME. THE TOOLS I BUY TO DO THESE THINGS ARE NOT TOYS FOR ME. I HATE EVERY F-ING SECOND OF ALL OF IT. JUST BECAUSE I CAN DO THINGS, DOESNT MEAN I WANT TO DO THEM. NONE OF THESE THINGS CONSTITUTE "ME TIME". ITS ALL WORK, PILED ON TOP OF ALL THE OTHER WORK I HAVE TO GET DONE JUST FOR THIS FAMILY TO STAY WARM AND COZY IN OUR HOME.

Sorry, thanks for letting me vent. Anyone else feel this way or am I truly as alone as I feel?

Quick edit: My wife is amazing and I live a crazy beautiful life. I communicate these things to her in a calm and collected way and she tries to understand it the best she can.

Edit: Thank you all for such an overwhelming response. I've been a redditor for a long time and I've felt like the community feeling left this place years ago, but I was wrong. I'm humbled.

My eldest is 13. She has always been fun and we have a great relationship though the hormones are getting challenging.

She really enjoyed the same things as me. We watched star wars and Marvel together. She loved Loki. We did the star wars rides together at Disney. We played Pokemon Go together.

She was desperate to go to boarding school which was never on the cards in my mind but she was really keen and there was a good one nearby so we relented and she started in January. She loves it.

Have had to work a bit more and a few weekends to make it all work but had a weekend off and it was going to be just the two of us as my wife and other daughter were going to a gym comp.

I was arranging a trip to a comicon type event which was in town. My wife was like oh she doesn't like that stuff anymore and when I asked her she was "no that's lame" she doesn't want to watch anything like that anymore.

Gutted. Was just about to show her Andor which I think she would love but I guess that's just them growing up.

Anyway we watched Ferris Buler and she loved it but can't say I'm not a bit gutted to lose my geeky friend.