From the Northern Front to Welcoming New Life in Israel

I just finished ten days of IDF reserve duty. Over the past week and a half, I had little sleep, bare bone necessities and I was away from my life, home, and family.

And even when considering all this, when your United Hatzalah beeper goes off, instinct kicks in and we respond no matter what.

For those who know me, you know how many hats I wear. I am a husband, a father, a newly graduated doctor, an IDF reserve combat medic, and a United Hatzalah volunteer medic. Last night, I wore all of these hats simultaneously.

This latest round of reserve duty took me to the northern most front in Israel; actually, inside Syrian territory.

My day yesterday began with one thought. Tomorrow was Thursday and that meant going home. Somehow my commanders sensed the anticipation and decided that it was a good time for a training exercise. We all knew what that meant; Long hours. Kilometers of marching. Carrying heavy equipment. Dusty terrain. It also meant that at the end, all we would want to do is collapse.

On the one hand, we knew we would finish late, well into the night. But on the other hand, we wanted to get home. My friends and I said, as long as we finish by around one o’clock in the morning, we would get into the car and drive home. Driving at night meant quieter roads, less traffic and being home by 4:30 AM.

As luck would have it, we finished around midnight and left base at about 12:30. We were exhausted, but the 250-kilometer ride home was full of good energy with friends along for the ride. I even went out of my way to drop a friend before continuing home to Carmei Gat. It might have added thirty minutes to the journey, but when you serve together, that’s just what you do.

The whole way home, I was thinking about one thing. A shower. A real shower. The kind that could wash ten days of army off me. Of course, I wanted to see my wife and kid too, but the shower and my bed felt like the pot of gold at the end of a hard week.

At around 03:00 in the morning my United Hatzalah radio went off.

A woman in labor. Someone needed help.

I was still half an hour away.

I have two United Hatzalah friends in Carmei Gat. Whenever a call like this comes in, we always check in with each other to see who can respond.

I first called Shira Silverman. No answer.

Then Hila Rinkoff. Thankfully she picked up and said she was on her way.

So, I kept driving.

I told myself the call was covered. After ten days in uniform and a three-hour drive through the night, I was allowed to go home. But as all first responders know, once you hear the call, you need to go.

As I got closer, I began wondering. What happened. Did they take the mother to the hospital? Was everything under control?

That’s when I called Shira again and this time she answered. She was also on her way to the emergency.  

Shortly after, I passed by Hila’s car, parked outside the apartment building from the emergency call. I called her. She didn’t answer but texted me back with only two words.

“Come up.”

That was all I needed.

I made a quick U turn, parked and ran upstairs.

One moment I was a soldier coming home from reserve duty. The next, I was a United Hatzalah medic walking into an apartment where a mother was in active labor. I was still in uniform. I had my weapon with me. I was carrying the exhaustion of the last ten days, and I am sure I smelled like someone who had spent a full day marching through the field in the heat.

The mother was deep into labor, but it was not progressing smoothly. I assisted my friends with clarity and focus.

As a newly graduated doctor, my recent practical training was about to become very real and very useful.

We encouraged the mother. We monitored the situation. But most importantly we stayed calm.

Using some of the maneuvers I recently learned in medical school helped get things moving. And about twenty minutes later, at around 04:00 in the morning, a baby girl was born.

There is something miraculous about a baby’s first cry in the quiet hours before dawn. With baby in hand, the mother breathed a sigh of relief. The father was overwhelmed and overjoyed with emotion after all that just transpired.

We prepared both mother and baby to go to the hospital so they can start their lives as a family.

As the urgency dissipated, and the urgency turned to joy, I felt the weight of my day.  A day that began on the northern front, serving in uniform and protecting Israel from those who wish to harm us, ended with helping bring a new child into the world.

On the eve of Father’s Day, I couldn’t help by feel happy with the knowledge that I helped give another man the gift of fatherhood.