I’ve gone back and forth with what to write about the NICU. How much. How little. Because beyond those walls is not only a place where tiny humans live, but also where miracle and tragedy meet. My heart is so big on this topic but my hands just feel small.
As I thought about it while I watched my children play yesterday so many memories flooded in. I flashed back to Face-timing my newborns before they were even a day old. Not ideal right, but when you are separated from your kids at birth, breaking hospital rules for this is the only option. I said to Hunter, “Do they look like us? Feel like ours?” and felt silly, somewhat embarrassed for asking those questions. Then the soul crushing moment we had to leave them behind that first night. Poor Hunter basically carried me to the car in tears. Little did he know I’d send him back to the hospital that same night at 1am with my milk. Because if I missed the babies’ first feedings than I’d be off to a bad start as my new role. mom. Bless his sweet sweet heart.
There was the day I fortunately realized that super mom was not in the milk I pumped for these babies, but in the energy I had for them. And there was the day when unfortunately one baby stopped breathing for a minute. There were all kinds of days. Including the day we got to take Baby B home, but leave the Baby A behind. When my heart exploded yet shattered at the same time. Alas, there was the day we picked the other baby up, and both my children were finally home. That was the day I showed them the sun and pointed to the ocean. And the day I welcomed them to their beautiful lives ahead.
As I continued to reflect while I observed my kids with their dad, my eyes naturally watered. For a few reasons but mostly at the sight of how happy my babies were. How much they have grown. And how mighty they have become. I’ve used the term mighty before for them but it’s my favorite, I think. And a good quality they’ll have forever. I once struggled over the fact we could not bond skin to skin the second they came out of my body. But I know now that our sacred experience in the NICU will bond us a different way for a lifetime.
I was a lucky one. Because rather than tragedy, I left with a miracle. Two of them. And not one day do I forget that. While I have turned our journey into a milestone of strength, I know not everyone’s story goes like mine. Many families don’t have the means to visit with their critically ill children in the hospital like I did. Many families have suffered loss. To you mothers and fathers, I am so sorry, I will never know your pain.
I haven’t figure out to make a big difference yet. But I am trying to use my small hands through amazing organizations like Miracle Babies who provide resources for parents with critically illl newborns, and support for mothers and families. I’m excited to share more information on ways to get involved, but today NICU Parents, I want you to know that I am thinking of you. There is a lot of fear, pain and sadness behind those NICU doors, but there is also a lot of love, hope and strength. I wish you the love, the hope and the strength. During National NICU Awareness Month, and always.
