Every baby has a birth story. And so, do their moms and dads. For some, the story is nine months in the making. The luckiest parents cruise through an uneventful pregnancy with only the typical discomforts. For others, the journey starts with years of struggle… to get pregnant… to stay pregnant… and they pray every day that they will make it to that blessed event so many seem to achieve without extraordinary effort. Whatever path brought them to the big moment, when the time comes, they all share one desire… a healthy baby.
Nothing compares to the experience of having a child. With the fury of labor and delivery behind you, adrenaline fueled euphoria triumphs over complete exhaustion and you reach for your baby. Your only need is to hold him or her close and soak in their sweet newborn smell and stroke their soft skin. It’s your time to shower that tiny bundle with the all hope and love that has been growing right along with them for months.
Little in life prepares you for the moment you realize something has gone very wrong. The pain ripping through your chest is immediate and full-on. There will be no chance to cuddle your baby; no opportunity to soothe him or her after the ordeal of birth. They whisk your child away, forever robbing you of that magical storybook moment. You’re left alone with empty arms and a broken heart.
In that instant, you can’t possibly know how it will all end. And despite the reassurances from countless doctors and nurses that your baby is in the best possible hands, given your raging hormones and extreme emotional vulnerability, it’s impossible to see anything positive in the situation. All you know is that your baby is not with you, which is the only place a newborn should be.
Such was the place my son and daughter-in-law found themselves on the night of August 17. Fortunately, as the subsequent days unfolded it became evident that our family’s newest addition arrived a few days before his lungs were ready for prime time; he simply needed a little more time. We were among the lucky ones. While our darling boy was in the NICU needing mechanical help to breathe, the doctors were confident his own capabilities would soon take over the task.
Even the label given to his condition helped us cope more optimistically with his plight: Wimpy White Boy Syndrome. Yep, it’s a thing; I googled it. Being Caucasian, male and a few weeks premature is apparently a formula for a little extra hospital time. And in case you’re curious, there’s no such equivalent for girls. In fact, had he been a she, the NICU detour may never have happened. Just another indication that females are indeed tougher, right from the start.
Each day, we watched our wimpy little dude become stronger. As he spent less of his energy laboring to breathe, he was able to master new tricks like eating. Mom and dad’s excitement began to build as the assorted tubes, wires and machines were gradually removed. They knew their precious little guy, literally years in the making, would soon be coming home.
That happy day came yesterday; nine days after he was born. It was made even more special after being forced, even if only temporarily, to face the possibility of a more frightful outcome. A clean bill of health for their little one was all they prayed for, and yesterday they got it. Of course, like many before them, their NICU experience left them realizing how fortunate they were to be going home so quickly and with such a positive result. They’ll be forever grateful for the wonderful care and support the doctors and nurses gave to their family. To the parents of a NICU patient, they are more like miracle workers and angels guiding them through the worst days of their life.
As difficult as your personal situation is, when you’re in the NICU all you have to do was look around and you’d quickly see how many parents were dealing with something worse. There were daily reminders that some parents never get the opportunity to walk out the door with their baby. Too many others leave with an agonizing prognosis or babies still in need of significant or lifelong medical care. So, leaving with no ongoing health issues is nothing short of a dream, and for that our family is immensely appreciative.
This all takes me back thirty years to my first NICU experience and the life lesson I’ve never forgotten. I learned first-hand that the birth of a healthy baby was nothing short of a miracle. During my pregnancies, I always pictured that perfect little Gerber baby. And the first time that’s exactly what I got, a strong, beautiful baby boy. I took for granted the same outcome during my second pregnancy. I followed the same routines that were successful the first time, so why wouldn’t I get the same result? News flash: it just doesn’t work that way. And when it didn’t end as perfectly as I had expected, it was the most crushing blow of my life. Nothing has ever come closer to destroying me. Of course, as these things go, looking back I’d say the whole experience served to make me stronger.
But it also wounded me deeply, and as much as I want to believe in the ideal birth experience, apprehension fills my heart every time someone I know is pregnant. I’ve never again taken the birth of a healthy baby for granted…ever. Obviously, my anxiety is usually unnecessary since the vast majority of babies are born ready to take on the world. It’s tremendously comforting that most people will never experience the heartache of a truly sick baby. The biggest challenges for most of them are sleep deprivation and frayed nerves from non-stop crying jags. I’m not in any way minimizing those things; unless you’ve been there, nothing can prepare you for the havoc a newborn unleashes on your lifestyle. Fortunately, these difficulties usually disappear around the time you realize this little disrupter has given your life a purpose you didn’t even know you needed.
Not surprisingly, when I woke up this morning my burdens felt a lot lighter. It may have taken a few extra days, but our newest addition is safely home with mom, dad and big brother, right where he belongs. He’s happy…he’s healthy…and he’s an absolute blessing. I guess it’s easy for me to say since my house is perfectly quiet, but let the sleepless nights begin…
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Beautiful!! ❤️