There is a different type of pain that comes with leaving the hospital without your baby. The heartbreak that came with not having my baby boy in my arms and knowing he was still in the hospital tore me apart. I felt empty. I felt fear. And oh, did I mention the immense new mama guilt? It weighed on me when my baby boy was born four weeks early.
And no matter how much support I received throughout my stay, I just wanted my baby. And it’s a feeling that you will never forget.
So what did I do? I pumped milk. When my husband and I weren’t in the hospital, surrounded by the bright lights and the machine noises, I made sure to set my alarm on my phone to pump breast milk every two to three hours. And I bagged. Bagged every last drop of milk so that I could bring something to my baby boy to show him that every second, I was hoping he would come home. And I cried. The amount of postpartum tears I shed over my baby boy not being in a bassinet next to me re-broke my heart time and time again.
My heart sank when my husband pushed me in my wheelchair past the rooms of other mamas with their full-term babies.
I wanted to be happy for them. I wanted to rejoice and share the joy of bringing life into this world right with them. But my chest and eyes burned. It truly hit my core when I thought to myself that being a mother in this moment meant I had to stay strong while my entire world fell apart. This was the hardest thing I had ever done.
Healing my NICU trauma started with placing trust in others and reminding myself that I should not and will not do this journey alone. It meant trusting the nurses in my baby boy’s care, trusting my husband to continue to be my rock, and trusting my family and friends to be supportive during an extremely difficult time. My baby boy would come home soon. And that motivation fueled me.
Omari stayed in the NICU for 7 days after I was discharged from the hospital.
We drove all the way from Rio Rancho into Albuquerque, every single day, sometimes twice a day, to be with him. His NICU nurse, whom I have the privilege of remaining friends with to this day, took the very best care of him. She not only held my baby boy with love, but she also held me. As a first-time mama, it gave me strength and courage. We were given a beautiful knitted pillow, and each time my husband and I visited the NICU, we would give it to Omari so Omari could smell his parents from the pillow. And in return, my husband and I were given Omari’s small knitted pillow, so we could smell Omari at home. Not only did this help my milk supply, but it also comforted me knowing that my baby boy was in safe hands.
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Each drive back home from the hospital got easier and easier because I would see progress. Trusting in those who wanted to support us helped me understand that soon Omari would come home.
The day we brought Omari home was a day like no other.
I was elated, and although I knew that his coming home would bring challenges, I was beyond ready. Omari had to come home with breathing supports, but at this point, I did not care if I had to bring home 10,000 breathing tanks for him. It did not bother me if I had to spend the entire day making sure he had everything he needed. He was coming home with his daddy and I. Where he belonged. Oh, when I tell you I cried the ENTIRE day. Our baby was finally with us. The car ride home felt perfect. Setting him home in his bassinet, making sure his breathing tubes were connected properly, it all felt surreal. Our baby was finally home.
September is NICU Awareness Month, and sharing my story is extremely important and special to me. Approximately 40% of NICU parents experience postpartum depression. In my case, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and anxiety about six months after Omari came home. With support from my husband and mother, I received the treatment and support needed to eventually overcome the traumatic experience of being a NICU mom.
If you’re a NICU mama or have been a NICU mama in the past, your strength goes far beyond measure. You are seen.
And throughout this unique, traumatic, and frightening experience, one thing is for certain.
Out of every single interaction and touch your baby had in the NICU, yours was the most important.
