In 2020 I gave birth to Hally at 27 weeks and 4 days pregnant - that's roughly 3 months early! Many hospitals aren't equipped for babies born under 30 weeks, which is why we began at Markham Stouffville Hospital and ended up being transferred to Mount Sinai. I spent two nights in the hospital before Hally was born, and gave birth on Saturday, January 18 at 8:43pm. She weighed 2 pounds and 8 ounces.
Once Hally was born, we were told that she would roughly be in the hospital until her expected due date - which was April 14. That said, we were told that it could been sooner or later all depending on how Hally did.
We spent two and a half months in the NICU, and these were some of the things I learned:
Take It One Day at a Time
It's the natural question to hear from others when you find yourself in an unexpected, scary or sad situation: How are you doing? My answer to that question was always really simple.
"I'm taking it one day at a time."
People would ask, "How do you do it?" and I responded with:
"I know I can do it today, and I can do it again tomorrow."
And I meant it. There was not an ounce of exaggeration or sarcasm in my voice when I said that - because that's how the NICU can feel. It can feel overwhelming, it can feel scary, it can feel lonely, it can feel heavy. I knew that dwelling on my baby being in a hospital for almost three months was not something that was exciting - it was heavy. And I knew that I didn't want to live "on countdown" in my head - because if I dwelled on that, it would begin to feel too big, too overwhelming. So I broke it up and only looked as far ahead as the next day.
You Will Have Bad Days
I vividly remember one nurse coming into our room and telling us, "You're going to have some really good days, and you're also going to have some really bad ones." I remember looking at her and wanting to give her the dirtiest look I could muster up. I wanted to say to her, "NO, I won't have any bad days! Hally won't have any bad days. She will be fine and we'll be fine. How dare you come in here and scare me." Those were my thoughts. I didn't vocalize them to her, but I did vocalize them to my husband. I remember saying to Matt, "I don't want to have bad days, I only want good ones." After that I dreaded the bad days and clung to the good ones. She was right, we did have bad days. We had days where we got bad news. There were days where I saw my baby go blue in the face. There were days where multiple nurses came rushing in. There were days where I was holding my baby and nurses were rubbing Hally's back getting her to take a breath. There were days where my eyes were glued to her monitor, and solely focused on if the machine was going to beep or not. We had days where it felt Hally was taking two steps back instead of one forward. So yes, bad days were there, and I hated them. But, I always reminded myself, "I can do it today and I can do it again tomorrow."
No Matter How Hard the Season - Be Kind
Shortly before Hally was born, we began our journey at Markham Stouffville so they could check and see if I was actually in active labour or not. I remember I was nervous, but I told myself not to get ahead of myself until I had answers. I remember having the loveliest time with the two midwives chatting as if I was just there hanging out with them. They told me they wanted to monitor me and that I had to spend the night. I remember being extremely upbeat, positive and kind to them. The next morning with every nurse I interacted with - I was extremely kind to them -- to the point where I noticed and said to myself, "Why am I being so nice? Why am I not miserable, falling apart yelling and screaming at everyone?" I'm not sure I had an answer in that moment, but I was shocked in my own attitude considering the situation.
And this continued -- it continued when I was in pain, it continued when I was in labour, and it continued for months in the NICU. Looking back, I had made a subconscious decision that night at Markham Stouffville to make the best of the situation I was in. I also remember thinking that I wanted to be proud of the person I was in a stressful and scary situation. Because let's face it - it's easy to be mean and rude when things are falling apart - but I didn't want to be that person, even if I could've. I didn't want to be like "all the others". I just remember that I so badly wanted to be different. I wanted my attitude and faith to stand out to the doctors and nurses that I interacted with. I wanted something so small and simple as my actions and my attitude to reflect God's love and my faith to the best of my ability, and in my opinion I couldn't have shown that if I wasn't kind.
Apologize When You Need To
Mount Sinai's policy is that once your baby is strong enough and doesn't need the highest level of care anymore they then transfer your baby to a lower risk hospital closer to home. For us, that was Markham Stouffville. There was one day at Markham Stouffville near the end, and I was just exhausted. Due to COVID they were now only allowing moms in the NICU, so for two weeks I went to the hospital without Matt and without seeing any family or friends. Those were tough weeks. On this one particular day I had worn my jacket into the NICU. This nurse who I had never seen before shouted from down the hallway, "Is that your outdoor jacket? You need to hang it in the family lounge." I literally just stood there, staring at her like we were in a staring contest (and I was winning) and I finally let out a rude "ok". I wanted her to know that I didn't appreciate it and that I was mad (I didn't need to be, but I was). This might all sound strange as I literally just talked about how kind I was during this whole thing - and I promise I was, haha. This was truly the one time I sorta let my emotions get the best of me. Anyways, I hung up my coat and came back in and sat in my chair. I was disappointed in myself. This situation wasn't her fault, COVID wasn't her fault. She was just doing her job. It weirdly really bothered me. I think it bothered me so much because I knew how positive I had been with everybody and I messed up here. Yeah I was having a bad day, but that didn't give me permission to be rude to somebody else. "I should apologize to her" but I talked myself out of it. I really wasn't that rude to her - could've been worse. But I remembered my Grandpa (who was the kindest person in the world) once told me he apologized to a nurse because he felt he hadn't been kind. He had spent a lot of time in the hospital, and when he told me this I quietly laughed because I couldn't imagine anything rude coming out of his mouth. When he told me what he felt bad about I wanted to say, "you don't need to apologize for that". But I didn't, because that was the kind of person he was. I ended up apologizing to the nurse and she smiled and totally brushed it off and said she understood that these are hard and long days. Sometimes, apologies in the smallest forms might not do a ton for the other person, but it reminds me of the person I want to be.
Take Care of Yourself
This was a tough one. The first night we left the hospital and left Hally there was extremely hard. We had never envisioned having a baby and then leaving her in the hospital while we went home without her. The 'mom guilt' kicks in a lot when your baby is in the NICU. Did I spend enough time there today? Should I be spending the night? Should I be getting there earlier? Did I ask enough questions? Should I stay longer so I can hold her again? I knew from the beginning that in order to get through this season well I needed to be strong mentally and physically, and for me that meant taking breaks. It might sound selfish and self-centred, but it isn't. I remember feeling like the social worker read my mind when she said the words, "You need to do what's best for you, too. Go home, take breaks, if you don't take care of yourself during this season it'll be much harder, and you won't be able to handle it well." That was some of the best assurance I got during my time in the NICU. The days can be long and draining, so to be able to drive home at the end of the day and recharge before coming back the next day helped me so much. Take care of yourself in whatever way that looks like and don't feel badly for it. I was stronger for my baby because I took care of myself too.
Don't Compare Your Baby to Other Babies
Lots of moms would gather in the lounge where you'd wash all of your pumping gear, and that's where I met a lot of other NICU mothers. It was there that we'd talk about how our baby did that day - both good and bad. You felt great going in there on a good day with good news to share with other moms, but hard to go in on a bad day when you feel your baby's had a setback. It's not so easy to hear about how some babies seemed to be hitting milestones faster than Hally was, and there were days where I'm sure I made other moms feel that way too. I just reminded myself that it's not a race. Hally was on her own journey, and she'll get there when she gets there - and she did.
Choose Your Support System Wisely
I learned very quickly that this was probably one of the most important things for me to learn and to make it through my NICU season. Let me tell you that your friends and family all mean well - they love you and your baby immensely, but they might not all be the people well suited to accompany you in the NICU. I vividly remember taking my parents and Matt's mom into the room to see Hally the day after and felt this immense need to reassure them that she was fine, the beeps were normal, explained all the machines and charts. I remember leaving that room and then telling both my parents (mainly my mom) that they could not "fall apart" when they were in that room with me. It might sound cold, but it wasn't. The NICU is scary, and I'm scared too, and it's more unsettling having others in your room falling apart in front of you. What I needed was my visitors to be strong for me. When a scary moment happened in that room, I didn't have the energy to reassure a guest that everything was fine when I wasn't sure myself. I couldn't afford the emotional stress of making sure a guest was okay when I needed to make sure my baby was okay.
There were days where I genuinely felt "safer" just going into the hospital room alone because I knew I could handle it and knew nobody else had to feel scared, and more importantly I just didn't have the energy some days to calm others down. Again, nobody means to and everyone means well, but it's a stressful room and not everyone responds or reacts well.
I'm not saying if you're a visitor you need to be stone cold and never sympathize or show emotion, but please be there for the parent. You just being there with them, chatting, staying calm helps us parents in the NICU so much.
Don't Google Symptoms
From the moment I was admitted to Mount Sinai I began having hundreds of questions about preemie babies - Do they still develop normally? What are the risks? What are the complications? The list goes on and on. I knew that this was going to be a season for me - a lengthly one, and I knew that me constantly googling symptoms and risks of preemie babies would've driven me insane, and would've led to me worrying about things that might not even happen. I was very cautious not to jump ahead of myself in worry, and the way for me to stay grounded was not to google. If there was a problem, then I'd face it when it came up from a doctor who knew my baby better than Google did.
You Can Still Find the Joy in Hard Seasons
It was the morning of January 18, and I was still pregnant. I was talking with my mother-in-law as I was wrestling with finding the joy in this situation. From the moment I found out I was pregnant I imagined being in labour and driving to the hospital. I imagined Matt calling my family and telling them it was time. I imagined holding my baby after she'd been delivered. I imagined my whole family coming into the room and meeting her for the first time. I just imagined joy - no fear, just overwhelming happiness that Hally had been born. I felt I was being robbed of that. I felt that now because I was having a preemie there wouldn't be joy but only worry and fear. I didn't want fear to overshadow this moment - because there was STILL joy in it and I wanted to focus on that. There can still be joy when you're in the NICU for months. It might not always be obvious, but I believe it's there if you look for it. Sometimes being joyful is a choice, and sometimes finding joy is the same thing.
This Too Shall Pass
There was a day where the Social Worker would talk about the future and bringing Hally home. I remember staring at her as she spoke and daydreaming about that day. I remember wondering if she'd ever come home. All I could see was the hospital, and I had a hard time imagining what that next season would be like. Once we were transferred to Markham Stouffville my mindset changed. Home felt a step closer, and I could begin to picture it. The day will come -- the season WILL end, and you will go home.
And this was it, we got to take our daughter home on April 1, 2020 and it was one of the happiest days.
Yes, having your baby in the NICU for nearly three months and during COVID was hard, but it really was such a unique journey that taught both Matt and I so much. We felt so incredibly loved and supported. Whenever I look back at my time in the NICU I actually have good memories, and I am beyond proud of the way that Matt and I handled this really hard season.
I'm well aware that my story isn't everyones story. I know that some seasons are much longer, much scarier and come with way more complications. By no means am I telling anybody "how to do it" or even claiming that we did it perfectly. My ultimate advice would be do the best and healthiest thing for your baby, your family, and you. The way anybody walks through the NICU will be different, and there is absolutely no shame in doing it completely differently than mine!
To all the NICU parents and babies out there - you are champions.
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