Love, Lauren

“Dear NICU Mama, Nothing prepares you to mother through a global pandemic, but you can find hope in yourself.

This isn't what you planned. You had a whole tribe of family and friends ready to love and support you, visit you, pamper you, and greet your new baby with gifts, smiles, and snuggles. Now you have a single rocking chair next to a tiny isolette, a paper mask soaked with your own tears, and a partner who can't visit with you. So you look for hope when you're hobbling down the hallway dragging your IV pole with you, knowing that you'd crawl to the NICU if you had to just to peek at your babe through the glass.

You look for hope while laying in your recovery bed listening to the cries of healthy full-term newborn babies all around you while screaming into your pillow. You look for hope while crying behind your steering wheel in the hospital parking garage because it's too hard to go inside - and again because it's too hard to leave.

You look for hope in the middle of the night when your husband is asleep and you sneak into the bathroom to call the NICU for *another* update. You look for hope in that rocking chair either holding your baby or touching them through the portholes of the isolette... you will find hope in yourself.

You will find hope in your love for that tiny human; a love so strong it shocks and scares you. You will find hope in your own tenacity and resilience walking down that long hallway with your disheveled hair, stained and faded cotton gown, paper mask, cradling that tiny syringe full of milk that you're so proud of.

You will find hope scrubbing in at that sink feet as light as feathers because you're walking on clouds at the thought that today you might finally get to hold your baby. You will find hope in the silent dead of night, setting an alarm for 3AM so that you can pump and provide nourishment for your baby.

You will find hope in yourself because going through the NICU experience during the height of COVID is the most heartbreakingly difficult thing you have ever done. But you're doing it. Somehow. And it has shown you how brave and strong and determined you are. And if you can't find hope in yourself right now, find it in the ones who have done what you are doing before. It is such a lonely time in our world. Everyone is adapting to major changes in their lives and you may feel forgotten, but you're not. I see you and I love you, and I promise that you can do this. Keep looking for hope.”

Love,
Lauren

More of Lauren + her son’s NICU journey:

-due date June 29, 2020; birthdate 4/13/2020

-water broke @ 27 weeks March 30 (COVID was just getting CRAZY!); bedrest/antepartum/quarantine for 2 weeks, no visitors allowed--although one nof my best friends who lived close by did make her entire family (husband kids and very elderly dog) walk to the hospital and wave up at us on several occasions

-my Mom is a retired NICU nurse (it was KILLING her not to be able to visit) and worked with more than half of the nurses who took care of my son (her first and only grandchild)    

-they told me I had gone into shock when they confirmed in triage that my water had broken.  Neonatologist came to talk to us and we learned he had known and worked with my Mom for years

-L&D nurse insisted on doing a maternity "photo shoot" because I hadn't had a chance to do it "on the outside". She was INCREDIBLE

-my husband had to "move in" for my entire 3 week stay because of COVID restrictions.  We had Netflix, junk food delivery, and three hospital meals a day and I was able to work and do video conferences from my hospital bed with the TOCO on.

-I realized our window overlooked the employee entrance so I decorated it with "thank you" messages for the staff and changed it every few days.  Every shift change I would sit in the window and wave to employees.  It was the most human interaction I had all day

- went into labor Easter Sunday, breech/low fluid, emergency c-section Monday morning 6:30am

-Joseph Holden Hughes, 2lb 10oz and such a fighter!

-called my Mom to tell her and she yelled at me for delivering during shift change (nurses were cracking up--one day girl and one night girl still stuck there with us)

-64 days in NICU

-cried every. single. day.

-my first Mothers' Day was rough--seeing women in "Mom Groups" on FB complain about being stuck at home with their kids in quarantine threw me over the edge

-tried making friends with other NICU moms, everyone kept to themselves.  Nurses said things were so strange since COVID had changed things

-husband and I had never been with our son together as a family

-the nurses were AMAZING and became my only friends during that lonely summer

On day three of visiting Joseph, when I was still admitted, the NICU unit secretary offered me a beautiful handmade mask that someone had sewn and donated.  It had purple flowers that matched my bathrobe.  It was the most beautiful thing I'd had to wear in nearly three weeks and I absolutely treasured it.  That turned out to be the first day that I was allowed to hold my son, and in our first photo together, instead of wearing a smelly yellow paper mask, I actually felt kind of pretty. 

We're home now and my incredible baby boy is almost 10lbs! I've been really having some emotional issues--not quite PPD or NICU PTSD but something close.  After sitting in my car in the grocery store parking lot for 20 minutes, crying uncontrollably, I realized I needed something else to focus on besides COVID and our experience. 

I started making masks to donate for new moms and dads but also wanted to give some encouragement, since right now the NICU is lonelier than ever. Friends and family started to ask for masks (and my project started getting expensive) so I began selling masks to fund my donation project.  Everyone who purchases a mask is asked to write a note of encouragement for a NICU mom or dad.  This has really helped me cope with what we've been through!