Love, Genesis

“Dear NICU Mama, When I look back on 2024, I see a mama who fought fiercely and loved endlessly. A mama who walked into that NICU, with pumped milk in a cooler, heart in pieces, but with the quiet determination that only comes from years of longing and waiting. You know that feeling—the one that comes after infertility, IVF, and so many long nights of wondering if you’d ever hold your babies in your arms. And yet, here you are. You’re still standing. You’re still fighting. Even on the days you didn’t know how to take the next breath, you found a way through God's strength.

You’ve witnessed your babies’ tiny bodies connected to machines that beep and hum. You’ve learned a new language—caffeine, monitors, feeding schedules. The uncertainty of their progress, the little victories, and the setbacks have all made you stronger, even when you didn’t think you could bear another moment.

Some days have been impossibly hard. The weight of isolation, the ache of not being able to take them home, the guilt of feeling torn between wanting to be there for every moment, and wanting the life you imagined. It’s okay to feel both the joy of finally becoming a mom and the grief of the journey that led you here. Both are real, both are valid.

And still, you’ve held space for hope. You’ve witnessed progress in the smallest of steps. Every day, your babies grew stronger, and so did you. Every breath, every touch time, every moment you spend with them—those will be the moments that matter.

Your NICU journey is not the one you dreamed of, but it’s your journey. And you, dear mama, are incredible. You’re part of a sisterhood that knows both the weight and the beauty of this path. You are not alone, and your love is bigger than all the wires, monitors, and machines combined.”

Love,
Genesis

More of Genesis + Her Twins’ NICU Story:

“Hi, my name is Genesis Youngblood, and I am a twin NICU mama. I’m married to my amazing husband, a first responder, and together we have an 8-year-old son and 10 month old twins!  Our journey to this point wasn’t easy—we struggled with infertility for two long years, and IVF became our only option. After a heartbreaking miscarriage, we were finally blessed with twins after our second transfer.

At 24 weeks, I went into labor, and I spent much of my pregnancy in and out of the hospital, battling complications. I almost experienced a uterine rupture, which led to the birth of my twins at 31 weeks. They spent 69 days in the NICU, and those days were filled with moments of hope and fear, progress and setbacks. During those 69 days I just remember pumping like crazy to get me through the long days. I was torn between having my older son at home and leaving the twins there. I felt like such a failure. I don’t remember a day where I wasn’t crying. Our son suffered a few major complications during the NICU and our daughter was a stubborn eater. Sometimes it felt like I went toe-to-toe with some of the doctors and nurses but I knew I was the best advocate for my children. Some of the nurses I met there have become family to us. In the biggest plot twist- I sometimes miss the NICU, (my therapist says thats the trauma talking). I can still smell the NICU and the alarms have not left my head.

Today, we continue to navigate medical complexities and surgeries, but I can honestly say that after that NICU journey, I feel like I can handle so much more than I ever thought possible. The emotional and physical scars are real—I still battle with disappointment, trauma, and the long road to healing, but I’ve learned that strength is not just about surviving, it’s about continuing to move forward, even when it feels overwhelming.

Every day is a reminder of how resilient my family is, and I know that the love and lessons I’ve gained from this journey will always shape who I am as a mother, wife, and woman.”