National Daughter’s Day: The story of my NICU baby, 5 years later.
It’s National Daughter's Day and boy am I grateful to be one.
Almost five years ago, I gave birth to a baby girl. However, not in the way I had imagined; not by any stretch of the imagination.
Nicolette Green, or Coco as we call her, was born at 2.9 pounds after I had been in labor for almost two weeks. I was rushed into the hospital at 27.5 weeks with an ubrupted placenta and stayed there holding on as long as I could. I remember when my daughter came out, she cried and was breathing on her own, which was an incredible relief. But all I had was a quick glance. I didn't get to hold her. She was quickly whisked off to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU), and I was left to process everything for the first time. As weeks followed, I pumped milk, made regular visits, and wished to take her home.
The NICU became my everyday reality for six weeks. It felt almost like I was working as a nurse even though that wasn't my job. It was odd, surreal, and completely out of my control. But I was not alone. Each day, I watched mothers walk in dazed, confused, crying, laughing, smiling, or sleeping slumped in a chair, as their babies sat in little boxes. A strange part about having a NICU baby is how people react. The corridors of the postpartum area are usually filled with visiting families, balloons, and baby giggles, but when I arrived, that wasn't quite the case. No one really knew what to do, bring, or even if they should be happy for me or feel bad.
Every day as a NICU mom, you wait to hear how the baby has done and very often you move two steps forward to only move two back. Particularly for mothers on the early side, like myself, it can be the longest weeks of your life. I'd had no chance to recover, and frankly, my mind was on the baby from day one. There are mothers who lived in antenatal care for three months before delivery; there are mothers who gave birth to babies well under 25 weeks and slaved away each day to visit their sick baby in the NICU while having full-time jobs; and there are mothers who went through it all and sadly never even had the chance to take their baby home.
Eventually, however, all of it became a thing of the past. Nicolette was allowed home and I was able to hold her the way I had wanted to from the day of her birth, albeit two whole months after she was born. Fast forward to today, I have I beautiful and healthy four-year-old girl who has all the fight in her to get her to the place she is now. One day I will tell her how she fought all odds to become the little lady she is. I am in awe of what modern medicine has allowed us to do. We must take care of ourselves and share our experiences, the bad and the good. We shouldn't hide them because they show the most important quality we may end up giving our children: strength. That is what I see every time I look at my daughter. She is a fighter, a beautiful example of nature's power, and I am so incredibly grateful that I have been able to witness and be a part of it all at once.
