No two people experience the NICU in the same way. For that reason, I love to post guest author entries, so that we can create a sense of “me too” when you find that person you share some similarities with.
My first guest author post was written about preeclampsia, which is not something I experienced during my pregnancy.
Today’s guest author post speaks of hope, miracles, perseverance, and love.
I was thrilled when Leanne emailed me, asking to write a post to feature on my blog!
She started My NICU Family after struggling with her own experiences with the NICU, as I did with Due Dates Are Dumb. I’m so glad to join forces with her, and I am proud to share her story with all of you:
It all felt like a big dream. As I lay there in my hospital bed, staring out the hallway window I felt numb. How could this be? I just had a baby. Where was the excitement? The joy? The baby?
I was 30 weeks pregnant when my husband and I were at a friend’s house for dinner. It was beautiful food and Scott and I were thrilled to be surrounded by friends. We were so excited to be out of the house as well because the first 5 months of my pregnancy I was throwing up constantly. Day in and day out. All I could keep down were eggs, watermelon and cucumber. I had also had chocolate almond milk, which I chugged in the grocery store parking lot because I didn’t want to kill my tree-nut anaphylactic husband by taking it home!!
We decided to spend the night at our friends place as we were more than an hour from home. As I was getting ready for bed I noticed I was bleeding. My husband rushed me to the nearest hospital and they told us “You’re going to have your baby tonight!” I walked myself upstairs and I was already fully dilated. Once I was on the bed things started happening very quickly. “Where are the forceps?” “She’s losing too much blood.” “I can’t find the baby’s heartbeat.” “They’re not dying on my watch.”
They rushed me to the OR. I got to hear two little whimpers and they took my baby away. The Infant Transport Team saved Skye’s life and I got to finally see my baby. He was in a transfer isolette, intubated and lying there so still. The ITT told us where they were taking him, suggested Scott come along and that I would have another ambulance come to get me soon.
We were transferred to BC Women’s Hospital. Skye was downstairs and I was upstairs. I had to go through recovery before I could go down to see him. After a day or two the doctors told us, “Your son has had a major brain bleed. He won’t talk and he won’t walk.”
We traveled to and from the NICU every day, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Some days it took an hour one way.
Skye’s health went up and down, up and down, up and down. We never really knew what we would walk in to. As you may know sometimes a blue light is used in the incubators for the babies when they get jaundice. One day we walked in I noticed that some of the incubators were glowing blue, some where just white, natural light and Skye’s was glowing green. There were three figures around his bed, the biggest and brightest at the head of his bed. It felt like they were there forever, but in a moment they were gone.
A couple of days later one of the neurosurgeons came to us and said, “I have never experienced this in my career before, but somehow Skye is healing himself. We’re going to delay surgery for now.” We watched him and held him and we still had some ups and downs. Then we got more news, “You can take your baby home!” Oh my gosh!
We got home and tried to settled in. Scott had to go back to work and friends and family did too. The laundry was piling up, the dishes were being left in the sink and I was sitting on the couch one day feeding Skye. I was alone. I was sobbing thinking to myself, “How has this become my life? How could I be like this after bringing such a precious, sweet little being into this world? No one should have to feel like this!” It was this moment that I realized I had to create something to make sure that every NICU parent who had just gotten home knew they were not alone.
I believe that the three figures with the green light in the NICU that day were Archangel Raphael and two of his helpers. He is the healer or physician of his realm and his aura glows a deep, emerald green. I thank him every single day because Skye is talking like a teenager and walking like a champion.
For these and many more reasons, I have started My NICU Family. My mission is to make sure that not one mother, not one family member of a NICU baby feels alone. Post-NICU care is a passion of mine. Through talking with hospital groups, doing workshops and guest speaking at caregivers associations, and creating communities around the world for NICU-Graduate families, my goal is to remind everyone that NICU parenting is a journey, support comes from connection, and Love is the goal.
How many of us have felt alone during, and after the NICU stay?
How many of us have felt that nobody else understands, or ever will?
If you would like to share your story with the Due Dates Are Dumb community, please feel free to email me at:
I would love to share your birth story, how you juggled having an older child at home and one in the NICU, any medical scares you endured, having multiples in the NICU, how you dealt with PTSD/depression/anxiety/any other mental health problem while in the NICU or after going home, dealing with grief and infant loss, or any story you would like to share with other NICU families that may need to hear what you have to say.
I care about the NICU community so much, and I hope that in sharing our stories, we can promote healing, support, and strength among one another.