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.
When you are at the end of your pregnancy you are focused on one thing only, bringing your baby home. You organize, you clean, and you daydream of being discharged and what it will feel like to bring that bundle of joy home. I imagined that scenario more times than I can count. What I didn’t imagine was being discharged without him. We went up for our last feeding before we would fill out the discharge paperwork and I couldn’t help but to cry. The nurses kept offering what they call “mom’s place”. It’s a room on the NICU floor that allows you to stay close to your little one. The problem is that it is typically only if your baby is only going to be another day or two. When I was discharged they had no idea when he’d go home, so what is the point of delaying the inevitable? Continue reading
Today I was thinking about the first time I held him. Movies always show that amazing moment that the new mom and dad bond with their child for the first time. The baby barely an hour old, mom looking a bit ragged, and dad looking awed. This isn’t a moment my husband and I had. Continue reading