Parents of Preemies

Today is March 10^th, “Parents of Preemies” Day. When I saw this, I wondered what makes parents of preemies so special that they have their own day on the calendar and why they would be celebrated. I never thought that I would find myself in this group, and even when I did, I never identified with the parents of the little ones who were on special machines and fighting for every breath. I told myself that our kids weren’t sick enough for us to attend the parent support meetings, and our kids were doing too well for me to dwell on the fact that they weren’t “normal babies”. In fact, it has never crossed my mind that they won’t be “normal”- I suppose I might be fooling myself, only time will tell. So, I wonder if my feelings about my preemies are any different than any feelings a parent of a full term baby would feel. So, what does it feel like to be the mother of a preemie in the NICU?

Helpless, hopeful, exhausted, grateful, frustrated, overjoyed, desolate, anxious, heartbroken, humbled, small, guilty, devoted, enraged, tender, numb, thoughtful, resentful, overwhelmed, ill-prepared, confused, lost, lonely, uplifted, proud…and the list goes on.

I think the only difference in the feelings of a parent of a preemie is that our shove into parenthood had no shallow end or learning curve; we didn’t get a chance to bask in the glow of being a new mom or a new dad, instead we were awoken in the dead of the night to hear that Harper had been intubated. We weren’t ready or prepared for the type of parents our children would need, or the roles that we would have to assume so quickly. Parents of preemies in the NICU don’t get the option to think twice; the situations unfold without consulting the people involved, but then again, this happens to all parents. And, all parents are put in positions where they see their children hurt, broken, and struggling, and they cannot do anything to fix the situation aside from holding a hand, kissing a forehead, or rubbing a back and singing a slow, low song.

The feeling of helplessness is overwhelming some days and some days there is so much hope flowing from the little occupants of those bassinets that it is palpable. We know what’s it like to cry out of fear, anger, frustration, exhaustion, sorrow, and ultimate joy. We understand the babies we hold are miracles- a true reflection of hope and perseverance- things we took for granted only months ago. Does every parent feel this way? I won’t know, but I assume that they do at some point- Tony and I just reached that point earlier than most.

So, as we celebrate preemie parents today, let me give a shout out to my favorite preemie parent who has sacrificed more than he thought he ever would, who has given of himself even when he thought there was nothing left, and who has been only person I would want to become a preemie parent with. Tony, happy Parents of Preemies Day.