Day of Life 3

On Day of Life 3 we were asked if we wanted to hold our babies upon entering their room. Umm… yes, please! This question came as a surprise to us because we didn’t realize we’d be able to hold them so soon. We were so happy they had been stable enough that we could do some kangaroo care. Kangaroo care is also known as skin-to-skin holding that only parents are permitted to do with their child. The nurses gave us special shirts that had Velcro on the side that essentially made a cozy little pouch for baby to rest in. The benefits of skin-to-skin care for both parent and baby are numerous, so we were looking forward to feeling like we could care for our babies as an actual parent. Doing kangaroo care with the girls made us feel like we were contributing to their care, and not just being a bystander in the room. We would continue to do daily kangaroo care for the next several months.

I vividly remember holding our son, Asher, for the first time right after he was born. It was pure bliss. My heart was overflowing with joy and I felt like I could just hold him forever and never put him down ever again. When a mother holds their healthy newborn in their arms for the first time, it all feels so instinctual and comforting. It’s wonderful. Holding Cora and Jane for the first time was not this way. While I wanted to hold them, I was also very nervous to hold them. For starters, they looked incredibly fragile. Their skin looked to be paper thin, so thin that it felt like the slightest touch would injure them. They also had what seemed like a million lines, tubes, and wires either connected to or inserted in them. Not to mention all the intimidating beeping machines that those wires and lines were connected to. Nothing about it was natural. But Chris and I were here for it and ready to care for those precious girls in any way we could.

The nurses situated us in our holding chairs, got the girls safely placed and comfortable, and there we sat for an indefinite amount of time – for as long as the girls would tolerate it. They encouraged holding for a minimum of 2 hours because moving the girls in and out of their isolettes too frequently would also cause stress to their fragile bodies. Then the nurses wheeled their computers in and sat directly in front of us as they charted and kept an eye on the girls. It was incredibly awkward at first. I was so afraid I’d move and accidently cause something terrible to happen that I almost felt paralyzed. But then the nurse began talking with us and asked us if we had any questions. Chris and I both expressed that we felt like we should probably have more questions, but that we didn’t even know what questions to ask. So the nurse (let’s call this nurse, Nurse S) just started orienting us to the room and explaining the equipment. As Nurse S continued to talk us through things, I could feel myself begin to relax. It was probably the first time I had felt relaxed in that NICU room. And as I relaxed, I found myself more able to enjoy that moment of holding my daughter for the first time.

The first time I held our firstborn, Audrey, was also the last time. I wanted to cherish each and every moment I had with these girls, because I didn’t know if there would be future moments. I held Jane and Chris held Cora. Even though we didn’t have those blissful moments of holding them as healthy, full term newborns for the first time, Cora and Jane were alive, they were “impressing their doctors”, and they were stable enough to hold. So for all those things we were beyond grateful.

When it was time to put the girls back in their isolettes, my arms were completely numb from trying to be an actual statue while holding Jane. For the remainder of the day, Nurse S continually invited us in to Cora and Jane’s care. The nurse encouraged us to help with temperature taking, diaper changing, and mouth care… all things we didn’t really know we were allowed to help with up until this point. It felt good to be included. When I first entered the NICU, even though Cora and Jane were my daughters, I felt like the outsider. There were all of these medical professionals in and out of that room who knew how to care for my babies better than I did. That didn’t feel good. We literally had to be taught how to touch them properly, in a way that wouldn’t cause stress to their little premature bodies. But I was thankful anytime a nurse would not only teach us but also invite us to be part of the team. Day of Life 3 was an early turning point for us because, thanks to Nurse S, it was the first day we got to feel like the parents of Cora and Jane.

On this night, two years later, I took the girls up for bed. I sat in the gliding rocker in their sweet nursery, they each grabbed their blankets, and climbed up in my lap. We sang their favorite song, they quickly fell asleep in my arms, and it was pure bliss. As I reflect on how far we’ve all come, all the things that could have been, and all the things we have today, my heart truly is overflowing with joy.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;

you have loosed my sackcloth

and clothed me with gladness,

that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.

O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!

Psalm 30:11-12