Lately I’ve been thinking back to when I first saw my son. I met him twice before I really met him. Let me explain. My son was first introduced to me as they were rushing him to the NICU and they were putting me under, I don’t remember it at all. Luckily my husband was able to snap a couple of pictures when it happened. After they put me all back together, they wheeled the gurney into the NICU for me to see him. I was still coming off of the anesthesia and barely remember this. I do remember them trying to fit the gurney between all those precious boxes caring for little babies, but I don’t really remember seeing my son.
The first time I actually met him, and remember doing so, was almost 15 hours after he was born. They had removed the catheter and had been helping me try to stand and walk a little bit. Around eight that night the nurse (my best friends mom and second mom to me) wheeled me up with my husband to see him. As we entered the NICU ward I realized I had no idea what my son looked like. I couldn’t remember any of the previous visits at this point. I started to panic. I started trying to read the name signs on every monitor (impossible by the way).
We finally get to my son, I read his name on the monitor first. Then I looked down to see his small little body in the oxygen hood under the warmer. I don’t remember what I felt first. Excitement at finally meeting him outside of my womb, or devastation as I looked at all of the tubes and wires connected to him. I don’t know if it was because of all of the sonograms showing me his face, or that blood connection, but I knew he was mine. How those nurses do what they do every day; they have my utmost respect. His nurse came right over and introduced herself, told us a little about what was going on, and very politely had to tell me I could not hold him but I could touch him.
It makes me a bit sad to watch commercials or movies where mom is in the room hours after the baby is born and snuggling with their baby. I didn’t have that. My family met my son before I did. I started walking as much as I could handle after my first visit with him. I didn’t want anything else holding me back from him. He is now 4 months old and I am still in awe of this little guy. He looks perfectly healthy now. You’d never guess the agony we went through for 19 days before he was allowed to come home. And I think the universe for that every day by giving im an extra snuggle and smooch.