What Nobody Told Us About the NICU

Tomorrow my baby will be two weeks old. She's come a long way in two weeks. But she has a long way to go as well. I know that this will all be a distant memory, but I feel like it gets more difficult as each day goes on to deal with in all of my mental capacity. Joe asked me yesterday where I would rather be. He expected me to say at the beach. My reply was much more simple: In my bed, in my jammies, napping next to my newborn and snuggling with my toddler in his jammies too...That is where I would rather be. It just seems so far away...almost too far sometimes.

I sit here right now, with this tiny little bean on my lap...who's sleeping most peacefully. She looks like a little angel. Her ducky onesie fits her perfectly. She snuggles up in her elephant blanket. She's definitely mine. When she's awake, she glances at me with her beautiful blue eyes. She's a quiet little thing, rarely getting worked up, even when she's hungry. I'm getting to know Maura, and we are bonding, regardless of the constant beeping around us from the variety of newborns in this area.

They don't tell you that the original date they shoot for will change what seems like a million days over. You look forward to the weekend, only to have it pushed back to midweek, and then to be pushed back to "5 days seizure free". It's really hard to deal with on a daily basis.

They don't tell you that these issues only happen when you aren't there....isn't that how it always goes? They never happen when you are really there in person.

They don't tell you that you'll nurse in front of anyone...especially if it will help prove to everyone that you are more than capable of feeding your baby whether or not you are here or at home.

They don't tell you that every wet/dirty diaper is accounted for...records, records, records!! Everything is recorded..."Was that a seizure? Is she just breathing funny? What is going on there?" Of course, if there were no monitors, you wouldn't see any of this, and most of it wouldn't be reason to worry...but here in the NICU, you hold your breath. You hope that when you call at night, everything will be fine.

They don't tell you how hard it will be on your toddler. Toddlers just don't understand it all. You can't explain that your newborn really needs you...to bond, to nurse, and that being an hour away is really hard.

They certainly don't tell you that when another baby leaves to go home, you wish you were that family. You wish them well, and can't wait for the day when you'll be on your way...because every day seems to take twice as long in the NICU.

Thank you for thinking of us today. Writing helps to process it all. I'm glad you can all listen in as my mind even begins to deal with this whole NICU thing.