Today is world preemie day, raising awareness about the battle NICU nurses, doctors and parents of preemies fight for the littlest ones born too soon. I have so much to say, but words will fail to express my heart right now as I am still grappling with the turn of events- grateful our beautiful girl is here and thriving, but terrified. The vulnerability I feel is unlike anything I have ever experienced, with emotions ranging from joy to guilt and so many looming questions. I know they say not to ask those questions: the "what ifs" but I can't seem to quiet my head. What if she had been born at 24 weeks? Thank goodness I did the 5 weeks of bed rest. But what if we had gone for a cerclage instead of a pessary? What if I hadn't been released from the hospital? What if I wasn't allergic to the indomethacin and could have used it to halt labor just another day or two? An allergic reaction for me that would have allowed my baby to cook surely would have been better, right? It seems to be a dark tunnel of confusion, but we are doing our best to stay positive in that we had a good delivery, we were in the right place to get her phenomenal care from the start, and we need to be grateful that maybe bedrest did buy her another 5 weeks of cooking.
They tell us we can bring her home likely end of January. Grace won't meet her until then. The holidays are going to be extremely tough (but fortunately Grandbarb already ordered her personalized stocking to hang on our fireplace with the rest of the family). Already it is exhausting pumping every 2.5 hours and getting the milk to the NICU, and balancing recovery (I was discharged from the hospital 20 hours after giving birth- I can't believe it hasn't even been 48 hours since this began to unfold) taking care of Grace (fortunately we are still staying at my parents and have their help while our house is being finished), and being at the hospital so we can understand what they are doing to our sweet one.
Yesterday super-dad Grant and I had a chance to hold her for the first time -- and with the cpap machine removed we could finally see just how tiny her features were. Having only seen her through the Isolette, she seemed small but perfect- just a miniature baby. But holding her crushed both of us, she is so tiny and frail and hooked up to many lines and wires. I couldn't help but feel frustrated that I was robbed of the birth experience of holding my baby right when she was born, and leaving her at night to go home is the toughest thing Grant and I have ever done, but we know she is in good hands.
This piece was sent to me by a friend, and if there are any other preemie parents out there reading, I thought you'd appreciate. I did.