Love, Kaylee
“Dear NICU Mama, I see how much courage it took to step into a world you never expected to be in. To watch your little one fight battles you never dreamed they would have to face, all while holding back your own fears and tears so you can stay strong for them. I see the way you sit by their side, watching every monitor, every tiny movement, and willing them to grow stronger.
I see the love in your eyes when you whisper words of encouragement through the hum of machines, and the strength in your hands as you hold theirs, even if just for a moment. I know how you measure victories in ounces gained, moments off the ventilator, or a single heartbeat steadied.
I see you showing up day after day, even when the weight feels unbearable. I see your silent prayers, your sleepless nights, and the way you hold onto hope even when it feels fragile.
Mama, you are brave. You are strong. And though this journey may feel isolating at times, you are not alone. Your love, your presence, and your unwavering strength mean everything to your baby.
I know, because I’ve been there too. I’ve felt the fear, the exhaustion, and the ache in my heart as I sat next to my baby, longing for the day we could leave the NICU behind. I’ve celebrated the small victories and clung to hope through the hard days. And I want you to know—you will get through this. One moment at a time, one breath at a time.
You’re not just a NICU mama—you’re a warrior, and so is your baby. And even in the hardest moments, you’re never alone.”
Love,
Kaylee
More of Kaylee + Wesley’s NICU Journey:
“At 33 weeks pregnant, my blood pressure skyrocketed, and I was told I needed to make it to at least 36 weeks if possible. It was an incredibly challenging time—frequent blood pressure checks and constant monitoring filled my days. But I made it.
When labor finally came, it was far from easy. After pushing for four hours, Wesley entered the world, but his umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around his stomach, causing him to stop breathing. My baby was blue. The room erupted into action as doctors and nurses rushed in, the air filled with sounds, counting, and urgent voices. Yet, for me, it felt like complete silence as I waited for that one tiny cry.
After what felt like an eternity—but was actually 48 seconds—I heard it. My baby boy was breathing. I was allowed to hold him for only a brief moment before he was rushed away. Unfortunately, Wesley was still struggling to breathe on his own and needed to spend time in the NICU.
Due to a lack of oxygen at birth, Wesley required an IV in his belly button, which meant I couldn’t hold him for three long days. Those were some of the hardest days of my life. But when the moment finally came to hold him, everything changed. My entire world shifted.
Our journey didn’t end there. Wesley faced several setbacks. He needed to gain weight, but each time he did, his jaundice levels spiked. This meant losing the weight, going under the blue light, and starting the process all over again—four times in total. Finally, after meeting all the requirements, Wesley was ready to come home.
It was a difficult journey, but one I will cherish forever. Wesley’s strength and resilience, and the love we shared through every challenge, have shaped me in ways I never imagined. He is my miracle, and this is his story.”
