Emotions registered high on the Richter scale of Seismic Events.  Problems were evident.  Parents were apprehensive.  Prayers were activated.  Doctors and nurses at Child-ren's Hospital in St. Paul worked around the clock. 
Every moment was a matter of life and death.  A set of natural triplets were being born.  It was March of 1999.
"They all weighed about the same," said Eric Ewald, father of the newborn baby boys.  Dane came first on March 13^th at 1 lb. 1 oz.  Then Leif and Espen arrived on March 24^th at 1 lb. 6 oz., and 1 lb. 8 oz. respectively.  Doctors had pur-posely tried to keep them longer in the womb, for greater maturity and strength.  And, yes, family heritage is Norwegian, Danish, and Lutheran.
"They were born at 26 weeks," continued Eric.  "Leif is the survivor.  His brothers died after two months ... Leif has been through many surgeries.  He is one of the smallest infants ever put under and operated on at Children's."
"Leif had surgery to remove much of his colon and the doctors didn't mince words with us," said Eric.  "They said it was a shot in the dark and we should say goodbye.  It was very sad.  He was green and blue and bloated.  We were scared.  But then they brought him out and unleashed Leif unto the world!"  Obviously a proud and tender loving dad, Eric smiles broadly toward his son.
Although Leif, now 8 years old, is digging in the frig and scooting across the kitchen floor with his trucks, he hears every word being said and asks, "Dad, did you have to say goodbye to me?"
"It makes me sad all over again, to remember it," replied the father, looking directly upon the face of his son.
"Was I close to death?" Leif asked.
"Yes, you were very sick," said Eric.
"What is a shot in the dark?" continued the inquisitive lad.
"It means the doctors would do their very best to help you."
"Daddy, what part made you scared?  Was there another part that made you sad?  Dad, what made my other eye not see?"
"You were so little, Leif, and they think that being on a ventilator caused some of that."
"Did all this happen a long time ago?  How little was I?  Was I as little as Timmy Turner?"
Picking up where he left off, Eric ex-plained that Leif's bowel was so premature that it simply was not ready to process food.  "Doctors had to pretty much take out his whole colon, but there's enough left that he can lead a normal life."
"He's also had multiple surgeries on his eyes," said Eric.  "One of the side effects of being on oxygen is that the retina can detach.  Laser surgery didn't work so they did a sur-gery called sclera-buckling to hold the retina in place.  It saved the sight in one eye but the other is almost completely sightless."
"Is there a buckle in my eye?" asked
Leif.  "How did they do that?"
At the age of 5 months, Leif was able to finally leave the hospital.  "He weighed 3 lbs. 8 oz. when we brought him home," said Eric.  "He came home on oxygen and a monitor.  He was on oxygen for 15 months."
Still listening, Leif asked, "Did I come home on a gurney?"
"Nope," replied Eric, "but you were so little that the nurses had to pile pillows all over your infant seat in order to strap you into the car seat."
"The doctors said there was a good chance that Leif wouldn't walk or talk," said Eric.  "Doctors had not sugarcoated things along the way.  We got a heavy dose of that when they were first born ... when Dane came out.  The first crisis was keeping them breathing through the night."
"But we followed advice," continued Eric.  "We followed the advice of doctors, nurses, and others.  Leif's mom Julie, now an R.N., really threw the book at him as far as early intervention goes."
"What does that mean?" asked Leif.  "What does threw the book at me mean?"
"It means we did everything so you could turn into the kid you are today," said the beaming father.
"It was all about survival," continued Eric. 
Click here to continue Leif Unleashed.