So, today’s writing is going to be a little different than most. This will be the first time that I say some of this but I think it needs to be said. Today is World Prematurity Day. I have a hard time with this. I know, it’s a day to bring awareness but for many, reliving the pain of the day most difficult days of our lives, it’s not easy. I hear a lot about how mom’s feel when they first see their newborn baby. The joy, excitement, overwhelming love. I’ve never been able to talk about it much myself though. Why? Because I’m a preemie mom and the first thing that hit me wasn’t love. It was fear. Overwhelming….paralyzing….FEAR!
With my first, I didn’t get to hold him, I didn’t get to see him, I barely got to hear him cry. Until there were more tubes and wires than baby. I put on a good face. I knew what this moment was supposed to look like but inside, I was shut down. I was angry that my body had done THIS to this poor, innocent child. He couldn’t breathe on his own. A machine had to do it for him, another had to keep him warm. He had IVs instead of food and eventually a feeding tube. In the weeks we would spend in the NICU he would need a transfusion, multiple preemie eye exams (if you’re a preemie mom and you are currently in the NICU reading this, when it comes time for the eye exams, just trust me on this one…go get yourself some cookies and a pop and let the nurse call you when it’s over). I would watch him destat, turn colors, and have to physically stimulate him over and over to keep him breathing well. I would sit by a new friend who was terrified of what was needed to help her daughter have any chance of living and watch that chance be stripped completely.
I didn’t know what the days, weeks, months, and years ahead had in store. What I did know was we weren’t off to a great start and I blamed myself. Today, on this World Prematurity Day, as pictures of preemies flood your social media feeds and you are both amazed and somewhat bothered, I want you to understand something important. There’s a great deal of both pride and pain in each and every single one of those pictures. Our babies had to FIGHT to stay alive, and against the odds, many made it. And those who didn’t, fought until they could fight no more. We are proud. More proud than any words could express for even the smallest of “normal” victories. Our lives are anything but normal.
However, behind each of those pictures is a mom who loved with all she had but was equally terrified for what the future held. A mom who had a dream of what bringing her baby into the world would be like and that dream was shattered. She pictured visitors and balloons and cards. She pictured taking him or her home the day she discharged but instead was told to go home without. Instead of waking up and feeding on the couch, she would wake up before scheduled feedings and drive to the hospital or she would stay in a hospital recliner for DAYS. A mom who would lay awake at night and wonder how many hospitals and doctors visits and therapy visits were in her child’s future. A mom who joked about kindergarten roundup being at bedside to make the days a little more bearable. A mom who remembers the distance she felt when all she could do was reach in a tube and touch her child instead of holding him or her. A mom who had to continually tell herself that even if she couldn’t make sense of it all, blaming herself would do no good. And with each day she has watched her child struggle, she has reminded herself of that over and over again.
And then there are moms who only have those pictures and memories because their greatest fears became reality. Today, as your feeds fill with these tiny heroes and their brave, strong, incredible super hero parents….see more than the picture. We are not celebrating today. We are bringing awareness to the reality of what our tiny miracles face and what each parent (not just moms) deals with. NICU PTSD is REAL! PPD and PPA are REAL! All the struggles that come along with prematurity and growth and development are REAL!
Today, my challenge to you is one we should be intentional about daily but we often overlook. The bible calls us to encourage each other and build each other up. To love each other and to help our brother lift his hands when he doesn’t have the strength to lift them on his own. We are called to sit in the ashes with each other; to both rejoice and weep with each other. Today, I challenge you to see more than a photo and when you do, respond in love.
-Tawsha
My Alabaster Life 