By Kelly Wilton
November is National NICU Awareness Month
Each heartbeat is a step forward, a fighting chance for their place in the world.
For us parents, our breath is taken away by the sheer magnitude with how precious our tiny baby is and how much they are fighting to stay here.
I walked this path many years ago but the feeling of helplessness I had as I watched my twin babies fight to survive, is a memory that doesn’t fade.
With 1 in 10 Australian babies born preterm, I know there are many more mums, dads and carers out there who have experienced the same.
The first time you touch your baby through the glass incubator, trying to change their tiny nappy through the holes in the unit, all while dodging the many wires attached to their body, monitoring their every second.
The first time you are allowed to cuddle your baby, skin-to-skin also known as a kangaroo cuddle, feels like a dream. This tiny, fragile little being is still attached to all the tubes and wires but your hearts are forever connected.
The heartbreaking reality is that after the first cuddle, you have to leave your baby behind, in the hospital for the continued care he or she so desperately needs.
The first time you feed your baby, holding the syringe as it travels down the G-tube into their tiny tummies, every millimetre vital.
Time in the NICU stands still. The only thing that matters is you and your baby.
There are some beautiful nurses that still bring a smile to my face as I remember how much they cared about my wellbeing as well as my babies, and how they reassured me in my darkest hours.
I remember so clearly at the time thinking how useless I was as people joked I was getting ‘rest at home, while other people looked after my babies’. And although intended to make me laugh, I felt nothing but shame about myself and my inability to birth my babies full term.
Every minute, hour, and day counts. Every millimetre, gram and kilo counts.
When you are in the NICU the realisation that the world continues on while you are inside these four walls, is a foreign concept.
I didn’t care what was happening outside when I was on the indside. In fact, my time at the NICU and later, when they were relocated to Special Nursery, time was sacred and special.
I had two beautiful babies who were being looked after by doctors and nurses who had a passion for specialised care. For that, I will be forever thankful.
It was 70 days until I was officially allowed to take my babies home. We didn’t know at the time, that a week later we would be back in the hospital due to a respiratory illness, marking the beginning of their hospital adventures which would lead later to both having rare syndromes with lifelong disabilities.
While everyone’s journey is different, and we all move out of the NICU at some point, we become different parents from the time we spend in there.
To the mums, dads and carers who are currently in the NICU with their tiny baby due to their early arrival, we see you.
I have met many premmie parents along the way, new parents, parents whose babies grew their wings far too early and parents whose children are now six-feet tall, they all hold a special place in our hearts.
I can’t promise you that it will all be ok, but I can promise you that it will be worth it.
