Just a side note: the next month will probably be almost entirely posts about parenting (well, NICU parenting) and Leapster because that’s what I have going on. I swear someday this blog will get back to being more diverse. Also, I have a lot to process and this is how I do it. Anyways, Leapster is staying pretty much the same (which is good), but she finally cracked three pounds today! She celebrated by shooting poop across her incubator for the nurse. Impressive.
I struggle daily with understanding how we ended up here.
I keep asking my husband if we should have tried another week of bedrest (not that the doctors, yes as in multiple, thought it would help). I keep trying to figure out what I did wrong (the answer is nothing according to aforementioned medical professional). I can’t not wish that I was still sitting here pregnant instead of watching my baby in an incubator (look, she’d still be the same person on the inside, it’s not like I’m wishing for a different baby).
And then at some point I remember that I’m so, so luck to have my baby when so many others don’t. So many bloggers seem to be losing babies in utero right now for reasons totally outside their (or anyone else’s control) and reading their posts is a reminder that it is so worth it to spend 6-8 weeks in NICU rather than wake up one morning to realize my baby is gone and there is no bringing her back. Because if her heart had stopped in utero, she would have been gone forever and unlike months in the NICU, I would never have recovered from that. And when you put it in perspective, we are so lucky because the NICU isn’t forever (even though it feels that way).
And really, when you think about it, I’m fortunate I made it to a day shy of 31 weeks. It’s hard not to resent the hugely pregnant women I see or the people taking home their 8 pound baby after a perfectly normal delivery, but I’m sure there are other NICU moms who resent my baby never having alarms go off (except when she pulled off her CPAP, which made me laugh a lot) and hearing the doctor tell us everything is going exactly the way they want it to. Just like I struggle not to hate the parents who respond to the news of their baby going home with anger and obvious disinterest (yeah, that totally happened and yes, I’m as surprised as you are that I didn’t lose my temper).
I think what it really comes down to is that yes, there are plenty of people in a better situation that us, but a lot of people have it much worse. We were told we’d never have a baby and while my pregnancy and her birth weren’t what I would have expected or even thought to plan for, she’s still my daughter and the hour a day I spend holding her is still the best hour of the day. It’s hard to feel like she’s really ours most of the time since I have to ask a nurse for her and before I do much of anything, but in a month (hopefully), she’ll be all ours.
There are going to be ups and downs, but at least we get to have them with her.