This is my first “Thoughtful Thursday”. I am not sure how/where to start.
I used to be an NICU nurse.Two separate hospitals at two different times. I loved it. I love the babies- I love the devotion of the parents (well, most of them). I love that even though it is scary, heartbreaking, and unplanned- there is still happiness and joy for the parents.
It amazes me that the strength of the parents is Herculean. Emotional and physical. I have seen parents sleep on stools with their faces pressed against the isolettes, necks bent at unnatural angles. I have heard the phone calls to family to make sure they get the bills paid, and the thankfulness in their voices when they find out it has already been done. I have seen the heartbreak when the parents find out their little baby had an A&B (apnea and bradycardia), and must start the 5 day countdown again to go home.
Of all the people I admire in this world- I have utmost admiration for parents of NICU babies. Hats off to them. They are awesome parents despite what has been thrown at them.
I have always felt drawn to the preemies- my little brother was born at 30 something weeks (my mother didn’t know she was preggers- long story) when I was 9. That formed my little mind and heart. I wanted to be a preemie nurse. I had the chance to work at a HUGE University Hospital and loved it. I moved, and unfortunately the next NICU was not a good fit for me.
My heart is always with the babies…and the parents.