They wheeled me down from the postnatal ward to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.
I had a bag of urine hanging from my bed and I was frantically clicking the button that magically gave me a dose of pain medication to manage the agony of having my tummy hacked open.
“Baby Thomson?” the nurse asked as my bed was pushed into the bay.
“Yes”, I said, nodding emotionally. I was about to meet my tiny little baby, nine whole hours after he was born.
I didn’t know what to expect.
Would he look like a ‘normal’ baby?
Would his body be properly formed?
Would his skin look ‘normal’?
My bed was lined up next to Carter’s crib. There he was. My perfect baby boy.
It was overwhelmingly confronting at first.
It was so hard to see past the incubator, the ventilator, the neon blue phototherapy light, the wires.. tubes.. all these things keeping my tiny baby alive.
I reached into one of the portholes to touch his hand. He was so tiny.
“Don’t stroke him though!” the nurse barked at me, “the stroking stimulates him too much and we don’t want to do that while he’s intubated”.
I pulled my arm out quickly, too scared to touch him now.
Having him lay in front of me like this, absolutely motionless; this didn’t feel right.
My heart was absolutely breaking for him.
Our time in the NICU was eye opening.
I learnt an entirely different language and saw babies improve and deteriorate in a matter of hours.
Sometimes nurses and doctors forget how scary this can be to see for the first time; after all, they see this stuff every day.
The beeping monitors were my first scary moment.
I remember holding Carter, my ex 30-weeker, at two weeks old. He was now on CPAP and doing considerably well.
I’d had him out of his crib for about half-an-hour before the monitors all went off. He had briefly stopped breathing and began to go a shade of blue that I will never forget, for the rest of my life.
The nurse instantly reached for Carter, putting him straight into his crib. Another nurse came over and put her arms through the other side of his crib.
My heart was absolutely racing, I could feel it in my throat.
Another nurse came and knelt down next to my chair, her hand on my shoulder, “He’s ok!”, she said, “He just needs a little bit more oxygen”.
I looked at him laying in his crib. He still looked very lifeless, but he was now a better shade of pink.
A wave of sadness rushed over me. Would I ever get to take him home?
Our life was turned upside down.
Having a baby in the NICU is exhausting.
Not only are you going to the hospital for ‘Cares’ every six hours - 4 hours, if you're lucky! (nappy change, probe change, etc), but you’re also working your butt off to express every three hours.
Hopefully you get to cuddle your baby. Some days, it was suggested that we not have Carter out for a cuddle, as he wasn’t doing very well and the extra movement could just take it out of him, after all, he wasn’t due to be born for another three months!
Get used to feeling like your baby isn’t yours.
It sounds absolutely horrible, and the nurses do their best to include you on as much of your baby’s care as they can, but sometimes, you just feel like they aren’t yours.
You have to get ‘permission’ to cuddle your baby.. sometimes, if they’re on breathing support, you may even have to get help in taking your baby out of their crib.
The most empowering thing a nurse ever did for me, was encourage me to take Carter out of his crib on my own.
I cried and cried.
Carter was still on CPAP, so he came with a couple of tubes, a temperature probe, oxygen sat. probe and the usual heart rate and respiratory rate monitor wires.. but I felt amazing!
Finally, I felt like he was my baby! Carter was five weeks old.
*Thank you to Carter's wonderful nurse, Amy Ellis at Penrith's Nepean Hospital, for this incredibly memorable experience*
The routine can be tough sometimes.
The nursing staff will tell you to express every three hours to help with milk production. You also have to eat a well balanced diet, drink plenty of water, get an adequate amount of sleep and spend time cuddling your baby, if possible, all of which will help your milk to come in.. and STAY in.
Seems fair. After all, you’re not getting up to your baby through the night and changing an endless supply of dirty nappies.. but think about it..
Express every three hours, for approximately 15 minutes on each side.. that’s 4 hours a day with your boobs in a pump.
Care Times at the NICU are, generally, every 6 hours. You will probably get to be there for two sets of cares.. if you get a cuddle too, that’s another 4 hours out of your day, assuming it doesn’t take you long to get to the hospital in the first place.
That’s already 8 hours.. GONE!
Then you have to find the time (and energy) to prepare healthy meals.. maybe you also have other kids to look after.. NICU life isn’t easy at the best of times.
Don’t expect to ‘handle’ it well.
I often tell the nurses, “I’d lose my shit if it weren’t for you guys!”.
The nurses who look after your baby are incredible. They’ve been there with thousands of families, all those babies being in similar situations.
They know how stressful it is. They know you’re tired. They know you’re not looking after yourself.
..so they will keep an eye on you too!
Carter’s nurses were my cheer squad.
I remember bringing in my little container of 1ml syringes full of milk. I pulled a total of five syringes out and lay them on the bench.
“WOAH! Look at that! That’s an amazing effort!!”
Looking back, I can’t help but laugh at how happy I was about those tiny little syringes. But I was doing the only thing that I felt I could do for Carter.
They’d often say to me, “are you getting enough sleep? Drinking enough water?”
Sometimes I had a nurse who was brave enough to sit down next to me, “How are YOU doing? How are you feeling?”
I never knew what to say. I’d just shrug my shoulders and smile, “What can ya do? I’m getting there”.
That was my answer, every single time, because, to tell you the truth, I had no idea how I was doing. Every day was a different rush of emotions.
You’ll be encouraged to take a ‘break’.
Spend some time at home, spend time with the other kids, your partner, your friends.
You won’t want to.
You’ll look at them and think ‘how can I enjoy myself while my baby is in here?!’.. but they’re right.. and you have to.
I felt so run down. Every day, I felt like I was running on empty.
I finally got to the point where I woke up and just felt so sick.
I was exhausted, my body was sore and my milk supply was rapidly decreasing.
I spent two days in bed. I didn’t go to the NICU.. partly because I was worried about getting Carter sick.. but mainly because I didn’t have it in me to drag myself out of bed.
After my little break, I was feeling amazing!
My milk supply had picked back up and I didn’t feel so drained.
This experience, it’s taught me a lot.
The most I’ve learnt from all of this? The fact that I am stronger than I think. And just when I feel like I’m about to break, I will find a way to just keep on going.
Being a NICU parent is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.. but it’s also taught me more about life, love and family than anything else I have ever experienced.
..to be continued
