Love, Sarah
“Dear NICU Mama, You can be so grateful for your baby's NICU graduation and still grieve the time that was lost between you two.
Being discharged from the hospital and leaving without your baby in the car seat as you initially imagined can make you feel an entirely new level of loneliness. Your body, still healing from his birth. Your mind, still trying to wrap itself around what happened because it wasn’t supposed to be this way. You can’t help but think to yourself, “What did I do wrong?”
Yet throughout this challenging time, you continued to show up every day for your NICU warrior. There you were changing their diaper, taking their temperature, and constantly looking up at their vitals on the monitor. There you were, softly humming songs during skin-to-skin and feeds.
Each time you went home without them, you felt the emptiness sink in. The empty bassinet, the unused car seat, the unrattled toys all remaining still. You couldn’t wait for the next day to come because that meant you were going back to hold them and hope to halt time so that the moments you two share could feel like forever.
The beautiful day came that your warrior graduated from the NICU, and finally, you left the hospital with your baby. While you’re so happy to be with your baby under your own roof, sometimes that feeling of emptiness from the time lost comes back. As you play and cuddle, you may think about how you didn’t have these moments at home while your baby was in the NICU. Others might have said things like, “Well, at least you get to sleep through the night while they’re in the NICU.” But all you yearned for was your baby in the bassinet so you could check on them whenever you wanted. And if they would have woke throughout the night, it would’ve been ok because that meant that they were home with you.
You may feel that you missed out on those first moments while you two were apart. And that, my dear strong NICU mama, is totally ok. I understand you. You’re doing great. Keep going.
Love,
Sarah
More of Sarah + Mason’s NICU journey:
“Mason was born at 37 weeks in August 2019. I had to be induced as there was little fluid left for him, so the doctor said he had to come out. Within minutes of holding Mason for the first time, he started to turn a purply-blue. He was taken to the NICU for further examination. Later that evening, my husband and I were told that while Mason cried at birth, his lungs didn’t inflate and were still the size of tiny raisins. Therefore, he had to stay in the NICU and essentially build his lungs up to the size and strength necessary. I’m forever grateful to those angel healthcare professionals. While I knew their purpose was to take care of my son, they were also taking care of me as a family would. I never cried so hard in my life than I did being discharged without Mason coming home with us. But my husband and I showed up every day from early mornings to late nights. Seeing Mason hooked up to so many tubes and wires was terribly difficult. The physical pain I felt while recovering from his birth was nothing compared to the emotional pain of seeing Mason, my firstborn son, in an incubator. I never wanted him to sense that his mama wasn’t there, so I talked to him all the time, read stories, and sang sweet lullabies. The day that Mason graduated the NICU felt surreal. Having the freedom to pick him up from the bassinet without rearranging wires and tubes was so new to us. I still feel sad for the time we lost together when I’d return home and he stayed in the NICU. But it only makes me embrace every moment I have with him even more. Mason recently turned 15 months. He’s walking, babbling, laughing, screaming, and exploring. None of this would’ve existed had we not been through the immense care and nurture of the NICU.”
