Our NICU Story: The Intersection of Heartache and Love

If you read my birth stories part one and part two then you’re aware of what lead me to this blog post. If you haven’t you can find them from the main page and don’t forget to subscribe so you don’t miss any more! 

To catch you up real quickly though our little boy was born via cesarean at 34 weeks and 2 days gestational age. While there are babies born earlier than that it’s still a very early and potentially critical age for birth and nonetheless scary for us. I was induced at 34 weeks exactly due to severe pre-eclampsia but after 48 hours all methods were deemed failures and we moved on to a C-section. Immediately after the surgery my baby was taken to the NICU and I became from that moment on, a NICU Mama. Being a first time mom is terrifying enough as it is, throw in a curveball like this and the emotions are double! Thus begins our journey that I’m sharing with you now.

If you’re also a NICU Mama then I’m sure you can relate to some, if not all, of what I write here. I also want to say that no two NICU journeys are the same and I am not comparing our story to anyone else’s. Each journey is unique and valid in their own right. I am just sharing ours and hope that it can help shed some light or spread support to anyone else navigating through their journey. If you’re a fellow NICU Mama then maybe reading this can feel like a hug and reassure you that you’re not alone.

Most moms get to feel the warmth of their baby on their chest right away after birth as a reward for the hard pushing and work they had just put into delivering their sweet little one. For me it was different. I didn’t get to see my baby or even hear his cry (if he did cry I was too foggy from medication to remember) until after he was already wrapped up and on his way to be alone in the NICU without me. His sweet nurse held him to my face so I could kiss him and see him through my teary eyes. What a whirlwind of events and it seemed like in a blink it was all over. No amount of drugs can distort that moment for me and I will forever remember that view.

What happened the next couple of hours following I can’t really recall except for that I pumped for the first time and got 15mL of colostrum. Seeing as I had no idea what to expect when it came to pumping and breastfeeding, let alone still processing everything that just happened, the nurse’s excitement at how much that first pump produced was the exact kind of hype I needed. Make sure you’re subscribed to read my post about our breastfeeding journey I’ll share soon!

Three hours after the surgery is when, together with my husband, a nurse brought us to the NICU. Still hooked up to an IV and receiving magnesium drip to make sure my body doesn’t seize I don’t remember much of the ride there – the whole 5 minutes and maybe 50 yard stretch it took to wheel me up and down the hallway. 

One thing I didn’t mention in my birth story is the fact that all of this is going on while we are still full force in the middle of a pandemic and wearing masks was being required everywhere. However since my covid test came back negative upon being admitted to the hospital and I didn’t even leave my room since then the nurses were really polite and lenient with my mask wearing. Even so much that we all forgot about it for that first trek to the NICU.

No one prepares you for that first moment behind the doors that keep you and your baby separated. It’s bittersweet.

No one prepares you for that first moment behind the doors that keep you and your baby separated. It’s bittersweet. You go in with anticipation both positive and negative and emotions all over the place. Hooked up to wires and laying in a heated incubator with a splint taped around his arm to keep his IV in is not how I imagined meeting my baby for the first time. However, it was also easily one of the most beautiful sights ever. My baby was alive and healthy and I was there to see it. My birth story talks about my fear of not meeting my baby.

Once wheeled up next to his station the nurse took him and laid him on my chest. It was such a sweet moment and very surreal. I was still very medicated so it was heartbreakingly hard to soak up the moment. Looking back at the photos it’s hard and painful to see myself the way I looked, as if I wasn’t really there and I guess that’s because partially I wasn’t. Sometimes looking at the photos I don’t really believe that it’s me. There’s also a lack of connection to the moment, which I so desperately which I could change.
We sat there for I think an hour with my baby on my chest. Skin to skin felt so good, it was what we both needed after everything we just went through.

Over the next couple of days we would go back again, and each day visit more than the last. (We would have been there much more had I not been healing myself and still having my blood pressure monitored every couple of hours.)

The nurses would place him on my chest every time I went and in those moments time almost stood still. Of course we all know time never actually stands still so once he had to go back in his incubator the nurse would peel him off my chest and as he whimpered she would lay him back down.
 
I know he was in great care, he had the best nurses and I trusted them! They would talk to us about what was going on, anything that happened, and help teach us things we needed to know… but although they were fantastic it is still heartbreaking to not be the one who is taking care of your own baby. I was told “take advantage of the nurse’s being here to watch him while you rest.” Very well intended but mom guilt is heavy. I remember every time I left saying “I wish I could stay longer”. 

Those first few days were stable and he was so strong. The betamethasone shots I had received before giving birth helped his lungs fully develop so thankfully he didn’t need a breathing tube or oxygen. 

We tried breastfeeding and there were good days and not so good days. I had to remind myself that he is going through so much so not being in the mood or forgetting how to do something one time or another is normal, the doctor would remind us of this too. He would get really tired and end up sleeping rather than eating, the same with taking a bottle sometimes. The doctor also explained that if this continues they would need to insert a feeding tube to make sure he is getting the appropriate amount of nutrition. 

It wasn’t something that I believed would happen. He had been so strong on his own as of yet that I was really hopeful. Until I walked in one morning to see he had gotten a feeding tube. We were warned it was possible, yes, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less when you see your baby with a tube taped to their face and through their nose. 
I wasn’t aware that it actually happened prior to seeing it though, not that being there to watch would have made it any easier on my mama heart. It’s another wire almost… like a string tying him to this place that is keeping him from coming home. I couldn’t help but cry. I ached for my baby boy who was going through so much without any understanding. I know it was to help him and good for him but I can’t imagine how he must have felt being without his comfort through all of this. 

The only good thing about the feeding tube was that we knew he was getting the nutrition he required and could practice breastfeeding in the meantime. Exclusively breastfeeding was a huge goal of mine (another blog post topic) and we were already met with obstacles from the beginning but this allowed us to work towards obtaining that goal with small steps and time. 

He had the feeding tube for 9 days, and getting it out was a huge step in being able to go home! 

Besides the feeding tube his stay in the NICU was secured by slow heart rates (Bradycardia or “Brady moments”) and forgetting to breathe and weight fluctuations. None of which are uncommon for babies at his gestational age and who are in the NICU but, nonetheless scary for us. He also had to lay under a “bili light” for a little bit to help his bilirubin levels. That wasn’t as hard to see him go through, although it did take me by surprise when I showed up one morning and that’s how he was. With emotions still all over the place I did cry. He would get little velcro sunglasses around his eyes and lay under the lamp. I just imagine that he was dreaming of being on a beach somewhere. 

Thankfully we did not have any more major concerns or issues however it was still emotionally and mentally difficult. Physically even as well. 

I was so grateful the hospital let me stay for as long as I needed to be close to my baby, but being in a unit ALONE that is specific for Mamas and their babies to be together also wasn’t easy. I would hear the babies cry in the neighboring rooms and feel like I didn’t belong because I was there without mine. He felt so far away from me although he was in the same hospital. 

I followed a pumping schedule, strictly, to ensure he was getting breastmilk and that my milk supply would be what it needs to be for him. Around the clock I would pump and walk to the NICU to deliver my milk and visit with my baby. 

On a side note, it feels very “wrong” to say that I would ‘visit’ my baby. It’s a process to work through the emotions you have when you are immediately separated from your own. Like the biggest part of you is missing.

The nurses were great and would deliver my milk for me during the night so I could rest a little more. It almost seemed wrong of me to send it with them but I knew I needed to heal and the constant up and down after a c-section would only delay my healing process. I would do a lot of walking during the day back and forth to the NICU so during the nights I really tried to get whatever sleep I could. It was guilt ridden sleep, which I may even be feeling to this day, but I also really needed the rest so I could provide for him. 

Since we had to deliver early there was so much we weren’t ready for at home, so instead of my husband staying in the hospital with me, after the first night he would come to the hospital to visit the NICU with me during the days and then go home for the evening and nights to get things taken care of and ready for us to come home. That wasn’t easy either as most of the times families are together after a baby is born. Once I was discharged as a patient I was allowed to stay but my husband wasn’t allowed to stay anyways. Going to bed each night without my husband or my baby with me felt very isolating. I was able to sleep, and I would video chat with family and friends who were stateside, and even my husband who was at home but it was still very lonely.

We quickly found ourselves in somewhat of a routine, dad would read to him during the day from our Winnie the Pooh book, either while he laid on my chest or in is incubator and I would sing to him at bedtime. 

I’ve sort of jumped back and forth in this post but I’ve basically covered all the surface level things about our NICU journey. What I really want to talk more about is the emotional side of it. 

Bear with me because this is also therapeutic. 

We pretty much knew going into the c-section that our baby would have to go to the NICU, simply because at 34 weeks gestation a baby just likely isn’t stable enough to go home yet. The NICU head nurse came and spoke with us before the surgery to answer any questions we had and sort of brief us on what it meant. To be honest, I know we had the discussion with her, but couldn’t remember what we talked about. Except for that she was German and the familiarity gave me some extra comfort. 

The NICU team was also already in the OR waiting on me. I didn’t get a chance to meet them or even see them at that time but when I met them after I already knew I had so much appreciation for them. 

The first time I remember getting emotional in the NICU was when I walked up to him being under the bili lamp and that just because it was unexpected. I knew it wasn’t anything critical, but it was still something he was enduring and if you’re a mama, not even specifically a NICU mama, then you understand how anything your child has to endure can weigh heavy on your heart. 

Besides getting emotional when he got the feeding tube, which I already talked about above, I remember getting emotional when he was in his first outfit. 

I didn’t get emotional inside the NICU though, it wasn’t until I left that I actually let the tears flow. I didn’t even realize something like that would make me feel so many things. Something most moms look forward to the most is all the first experiences of things and although it wasn’t a big milestone per se, it felt like one for me. Most baby’s first outfit is their going home outfit and it’s kept forever. I don’t have the outfit he wore for the first time. It was put on and taken off while I wasn’t there. 

And before this sounds like I am bashing the nurses I want to say I’m not mad at them at all! I actually vented to a friend when it happened because with all those emotions anger WAS one. But she helped me understand it wasn’t the nurse’s intention and she probably didn’t even think about it being a “big deal”. I don’t even know which nurse it was and that’s okay. It’s not their fault, it’s their job and I respect them and appreciate everything they did for us during our NICU time. 

“I’m his Mama… I should be the one to take care of him”

Maybe it isn’t even a “big deal” at all. Maybe it was heightened because of everything else going on but in that moment I felt like my job had been replaced… “I’m his Mama…I should be the one to take care of him, I should be dressing him, and this isn’t even our outfit” is what I thought. 

With all of the other things I COULDN’T do for him that mamas are supposed to do this was something else I could add to our list. So that morning visit was really short because to be honest, I felt those emotions and was embarrassed to show them to the nurses. It felt so trivial and ridiculous, silly even, but I felt it very much, so I took a photo as the closest I could get to remembering his first outfit and left quickly. As soon as I left those doors I cried. I was both sure and unsure of why I was even crying. 

After some time and talking to my husband, family, and friends I felt better and reassured that I have a million and more ‘firsts’ to experience with him as he grows up and as a family.

I’ll admit that was probably the most emotional moment I had that wasn’t related to his health or birth, but it was a pivotal moment in feeling like a mom. For any one of you reading this who may experience a NICU stay in the future, I encourage you to express your desires ahead of time, like to be present for any and all things or requests on things like the use or not of a pacifier or your own outfits, etc (within reason of course of what is possible).

Over the rest of our time in the NICU I, and my husband, were able to be present for a lot more to include diaper changes, outfit changes, baths, feedings and swaddling. It was a different kind of learning curve than we expected seeing as in the beginning we could only hold him for so long and we had to maneuver wires and tubes. We got pretty good at it though!

The nurses would of course always be present and help any time we needed but they would start to step back and let us be more hands on with him which was a great feeling.

I’m a person of a million questions, and I’m sure if you know me you already knew this. Sometimes the questions seemed silly but I think when it comes to caring for your little a “silly” question is better than feeling unsure. I remember one of those “silly” questions I had was asking if too many hiccups can hurt him in any way or if it’s a bad thing.

The nurse chuckled and answered so sweetly. 

To keep from this being too long, that’s it in a (long enough) nutshell. To wrap things up I’ll just quickly still say that each day things would, generally speaking, get better. The time I went to see him and he was in a bassinet instead of the incubator was a huge surprise and a great one! Even that change made a huge difference. Things didn’t seem so scary and intimidating. It wasn’t long after that either that we heard “Well, he hasn’t had any Brady episodes or anything else of concern in X number of days, we’re thinking maybe tomorrow he can go home!” 

Things moved quickly after that. We did the 2-hour car seat test, which ended up in us borrowing a car seat from the NICU for the first few weeks because he was too small for the one we bought and we chose an outfit for him to come home in. It was too big for him of course but it was probably the smallest thing we had. 

The day we were getting ready to go home his nurse made sure to make it special for us. She brought us his own little graduation cap, extra supplies we would need, and a cute board for a photo op. She took our photo and answered all of my million questions. She was truly a highlight to our NICU journey.

A couple other nurses were also a silver lining to our stay there to include one who made a sign with his first hand and footprints and even one themed for his birth month and another who was just so friendly it made being in the NICU a lot less discouraging. Overall though, all of his nurses were great and the doctors too! 

If you were part of our NICU journey and find yourself reading this, I hope you know how much we appreciate you and are thankful to have had you care for our baby boy. 

If you have any NICU related stories to share I’d be happy to read them in the comments below, or anything you’d like to say in regards the our journey that I just shared with you.

BTW, if you’re done reading and still wondering… no, hiccups cannot harm or be a bad thing for a baby, they are just annoying. 

(Also, credit goes to my husband for titling this post. I could not think of anything.)

Until the next post!