I have a love/hate relationship with social media. If you have any sort of account, you probably do too. I have to take the good with the bad. Politics and overachieving, perfect mothers with perfect children are what drive me crazy. Keeping up with relatively normal family (does that really exist?) and friends and watching everyone’s children grow up is what keeps me coming back for more. But beyond the family and friends, social media helps take me out of my bubble when it grants me an inside view into other people’s life experiences and challenges. Social media helps clue me in and I love it.
For instance, September is Neonatal Intensive Care (NICU) Awareness Month with stories, photos and fundraisers showing up across social media feeds. Without being online, you might miss this entirely. Most months and days are now devoted to many different causes and celebrations. It’s actually hard to keep up. However, this platform lets you know it’s out there and you can choose to be moved by some and touched by others.
NICU awareness month always catches me off guard when it comes up. It makes me feel a little unsteady until I get my emotions under control. I am immediately faced with memories of the month I spent in a NICU with my daughter after her birth. Even if it’s a wonderful place, with outstanding nurses, it is not the place you want to be.
I got there after my water broke (following a doctor’s visit) a few weeks early in the middle of Macy’s Department store. It was a complete comedy of errors after that. I don’t remember what I ate for breakfast today, but thirteen years later, I can give you a complete play by play of that day. While I completely freaked out in the bathroom of Macy’s, over the phone my bestie told me I had to “make a run for it” back to my car. It ended up being more like a waddle in wet jeans, but I made it and drove myself to the hospital. On the way, I called my big sister who explained as calmly as she could when she realized I was not “getting it” that I was going to have this baby TODAY! I started crying, asking her “Why?” as I was telling her I had not made it to this chapter in the parenting book yet and it was just too early!
My husband raced to my side, but not before asking if he could run by home first because he forgot his phone. I was 45 minutes away, and at that moment I knew he was a full-fledged member of “manhood” for asking me such an idiotic question. Yelling, cussing and more tears helped answer that question for him and he was there in a hot second.
All this was happening as my parents were traveling out of state to say goodbye to my brother, who is a Naval Officer and was heading off to Iraq. Clearly, this day was not going well for any of us.
After only a few hours of labor, to keep up with the pace of the crazy day, my daughter shot out of me like a rocket. I was lucky enough to hold her for a few minutes before they swept her off to the NICU.
As completely shocked I was to have given birth, I had yet to realize what was really going on. But reality set in fast. While she wasn’t in extreme danger, she wasn’t healthy either. The days went by as I healed slowly, learned how to use an industrial breast pump, left the hospital without a baby, and returned daily to sit by her bassinet all day long.
My mom made it into town and helped me for a week, translating the doctor’s words and asked all the questions I didn’t even know I had. When my mom left, to even more tears, my mother-in-law would sit with me daily, making sure I was cared for and fed. I would tell my husband that she didn’t need to come; that I wanted to be by myself. But he had her come anyways. Now, I remember her being there as nothing but a gift. My husband would come up every afternoon for our daughter’s last feeding and bath time, and then we would make our way to a hotel up the street. Being 45 minutes away just seemed too far from our sweet girl.
The days turned into weeks as we adjusted to our new routine as parents, while our daughter fought and grew with the help of a feeding tube. About a month in, we made the decision to switch her to a bigger, children’s hospital where she could have a surgery to put in a stomach tube. A decision which would eventually allow her to come home. As if she knew what was on the line, an hour before the ambulance transfer, my beautiful baby mustered but the strength to eat on her own. Out of all the wonderful moments I have had in my life, leading up to that point and every moment after, this was the best of them all. Nothing matters as much as the health of your child.
It wasn’t an easy road for a few years after our NICU stay, but eventually Mallory got to where she thrived. With a heavy heart, I celebrate our time in the NICU, as it stood for strength. It was filled with compassion from the doctors, nurses and our family and friends. It made me keenly aware of the types of struggles so many people face.
So when the social media awareness campaigns pop up, I am reminded of the struggle we had 13 years ago. It keeps it in the forefront of my mind and drives me to set the example for my kids. Spread love and make merry for others when the going gets tough, just like so many did for us.
Ways to Make Merry:
Nicuawareness.org – Community Initiative supporting Neonatal Intensive Care Awareness Month
Marchofdimes.org – Helping to give mothers and babies the best possible start.
Ronaldmcdonaldhouse.org – Provides a safe, affordable and caring “home-away-from-home” for families of children receiving medical care.
Thank you for sharing!!! Cassi and Lucy were in the NICU for 3 weeks. The nurses were like angels for my babies. We are so blessed to have such healthy girls now!!