Hear stories and lessons learned from EO Members and Accelerators.

I looked at my calendar because Jasmine was due on 28 June. I thought, “I can do this.” However, almost instantly, my spirit animal whispered, “This is a bad idea.” But I proudly answered, “I’ve got this; I can handle it.”

After convincing myself, I anxiously told Jasmine about the call. She said, “This is an important trip for you; take it. There’s a lot of time between now and the 28th. You’ll be fine.” My wife is a wonderful woman, but her support on this matter puzzled me. I could not believe how calm she was.

Even so, my gut would not stop growling at me. I decided we should consult our doctor. After a few scans, the doctor said, “You have nothing to worry about. Stop overthinking, and go on your business trip. There is plenty of time, plenty of time.”

I wondered why I still felt unsure, despite getting reassurances from both my wife and the doctor.

Ultimately, I decided to go on the business trip. I left on 8 June and would be back by 12 June, with time to spare before my wife’s due date. After three days of intense meetings, on 11 June, I was in the hotel packing my bags to go home when my phone rang. It was Jasmine.

The worst possible timing

Looking back, I should have immediately figured out something was amiss because it was 4am in Dubai.

“Hello, what’s wrong?” I asked. Her voice cracked, “My water broke.”

“Are you sure?” I inquired, aware that she wouldn’t call me in the middle of the night to play a prank, but deep down, I wished she had. At that point, I heard a noise like a caged animal rattling its bars. “Yes, yes, I am sure,” she said frantically. My firstborn was on the way, and I was thousands of kilometers away.

I made frantic calls to try to get on the next flight to Dubai. Even if I could, it was a 16-hour trip from my hotel room to delivery room number 302 at Al Zahra Hospital. The crushing reality hit me—I wasn’t going to make it in time.

I thought, “What made me think that a business trip was more important than listening to my intuition that told me not to go? I wasn’t true to my family or myself. I shouldn’t have left.” All this while I was trying to get home to my wife and child. After a few calls to the airlines, my mother-in-law called to say, “They just took her into the delivery room. It’s happening now.” My heart sank.

At that point, I experienced my most defining moment as a man in the most unimaginable way. I was still on the phone, so I heard the doctor say, “Push, push, breathe, push.” There I was, miles away from my family, listening to the birth of my first child, all the while regretting my decision to go on this trip. After the pushing, screaming and pulling of hair (mostly mine), the doctor finally gave us the good news: It was a boy. That moment was as bitter as it was sweet.

You see, we had decided to wait and discover the gender of our child the natural way. So, it was a beautiful moment that, as a parent, you would remember for the rest of your life. But I would not have that beautiful memory. I wasn’t there to experience it with my wife as we had planned. I could not stop thinking about why I wasn’t there. I had wanted to be there; I had prepared to be there, so how did this happen?

The first time I held my child in my hands, I had a turbulence of emotions—jubilation, joy, guilt and regret. Nine years later, I honestly don’t remember what challenges my client was facing that made me go on that trip. However, I remember exactly what I missed. It was not worth it, to miss my child’s birth for something that could have been avoided.

Lessons learned

Nonetheless, my colossal mess-up taught me three valuable lessons:

1. Always listen to your spirit animal.
2. Nothing is so important to make you miss the truly magical moments in life.
3. It revealed my real passion, which is being the best father I can be.

Finally, my mask was off, and I realized that being vulnerable is being strong. I can’t do it all, and that’s okay. Please learn from my story and mistake to examine your life because, after all—we are humans, and we mess up.