Welcome to the World

Estelle “Stella” Haban

I’m going to take break from a typical Cinematographer’s blog entry. No “Top 5” lists of gear or tips & tricks, no carefully placed keywords to increase SEO.

This past week, my fiancee and I welcomed our baby girl into the world.

The afternoon started calmly enough, with a checkup for my fiancee’s rising blood pressure. Within 2 hours of first showing up at the hospital, I found myself nervously waiting outside the operating room, as my fiancee was being prepped inside for an emergency c-section. Our baby girl wasn’t due for another 4 weeks, but by the time we made it into the hospital, the doctors determined that placental abruption was a very real risk to mother and child.

Memories of the delivery are very visceral, but still feel surreal. The day of the delivery feels a lifetime ago, and the week and-a-half since then in the NICU has been marked by slow-by-steady progress. But both baby and mom are doing amazing, and we are now headed home.

We were very fortunate that Bellin Health in Green Bay, WI has parental suites attached to their NICU rooms - one of very few hospitals in the nation that has them - which allowed us to stay in the room with our baby, keeping us incredibly involved and up-to-date on her progress.

It’s wild to think how much perspectives have shifted in such a short time.

I actually love the sound of crying. (In a few months I’ll probably be laughing at my own naiveté). But those moments in the operating room after I heard the doctor say “she’s out”, followed by a long pause, were the most nerve-wracking of my life. The instant Stella first cried, I lost it; it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. And I haven’t lost that feeling since.

The photo to the right is my favorite photo of her from our time in the NICU, and possibly my favorite photo that I’ve taken of all time. Less than 36 hours after her delivery, she had already improved enough that she was taken off her CPAP machine, allowing us to see her face for the first time.

It was both etched in stress, and relief. In the most tumultuous times of my life, when the storm has finally passed, and I’m allowed a moment of sleep - I’ve had the same look. It’s so emotionally charged, I almost cry every time I see this photo.

She entered this world more abruptly than we had hoped, whisked away by a team of nurses, and hooked to machines to monitor her. It had to be more stressful than I can even imagine.

But now, just days later, it has passed, and our baby girl can fall asleep in the arms of two people that love her beyond words.

Daddy loves you, Stella.