Thoughts From the NICU

    This is not an update. It's a journal entry from the day after Leo was born while Brad and I were still staying at the hospital (for one more night). It took me a bit to start processing what was happening. This was written while Leo was on a cooling mat. He started seizure medication, got morphine, and was being cooled. We couldn't rub his skin because that was too much stimulation. We could only lay a hand on his body. 

    I share this for two reasons mainly. One: Look what God has brought us from. We are not in this place anymore. He has worked miracles in Leo's life. And two, I really want to share a glimpse into a NICU mama experience. It's joining a family that you never wanted to be a part of, but it is a family. And it's a powerful experience, life-changing.

    "I look at my body and don't see a baby--and then I realize that when I look up, he's not there either. That was the first way in which the emotions started to come through for me. I was very much in a state of shock. Giving birth is insane. 

    I had been awake for something over 36 hours. I had labored from, let's say, midnight for sure to 12:42pm. Then they broke my water and laboring changed. Got very intense in my body for 1-2 hours. Then I pushed for 2 and a half hours. It's the biggest workout I've ever done. My abs were dead, legs fried, arms done. 

    Then there's emotions and hormones. Once he finally came out, he was placed on me for 1 second (not exaggerating). They were cleaning him off and I waited, expecting to hear him gargle and gasp for air any second. It didn't come. The room filled with people pretty quick and I heard the word "code" mentioned. They had someone next to me to explain the chaos--and help Brad and I in a scary situation. Brad looked startled. I truly believed he (Leo) would be ok eventually. I just thought it looked a lot worse than it was. So Brad went off to the NICU and I stayed feeling happy; no longer pushing, with a baby boy, no longer pregnant, soon to be fed, and praised and taken care of for the feat I had just accomplished. I was happy, exhausted, and in shock. 

    But the first time I started to feel it was looking at my stomach changed and not having a baby in my arms. I want to hold him. I want to hold him so bad. I hate seeing him laying on a cooling mat, waiting for a seizure, full of meds, not getting my milk, and silent. I hate that I got him on my skin for one second. I want him to know that I'm here. I expected that I'd be all he needed and I feel like I'm the only thing he doesn't have.

    I feel guilty. Guilty because I spend time in the room by myself or with Brad and not thinking about Leo. I feel like I'm acting like I don't even have a child. And then I think about taking him home and two things go through my head. One: how do I know he's gonna be ok away from all the meds and doctors and equipment? I can't take care of him adequately. And two: how the heck to I take care of a "normal" baby let alone if he needs extra care? I can't handle life plus him. I get scared at how real going home with him makes it. But I also can't imagine going home without him. 

    And then there's the NICU. He's in there because he was deprived of oxygen during birth. Right now, if looks like all is good except for his brain. But is it short-term fixes he'll do on his own or will there be lasting effects? I don't even know what the long term is here that we're scared of? And we just have to wait. Pray. And wait. 

    And God has spoken this so clearly to me. Leo is my son. God made me a mother--is making me a mother. And Leo belongs to Jesus. He's gifted to us. And him being what we expected does not change any of that. He is precious and I feel it like I've never felt before. And his condition does not change how precious he is. I want my son and I want him to be "normal". But what is a "normal" life? So I want Leo to not struggle with certain things? I want him to understand the same things as other people? I want him to do certain things on his own? 

    But what if I learn so much from him? I could learn to value important things rather than the expected things. He could show Jesus' love in an entirely new way for people. He can value relationships and people. . .

He's my son, God's child, and a precious life. Precious simply because of his creator. What a gift."