In the realm of motherhood, birthdays hold a different significance for many mothers of premature infants. For those of us who have experienced the tumultuous arrival of our children, the night they were born often intertwines joy and trauma. As I approach the second birthday of my twins, a wave of emotions washes over me—gratitude, appreciation, but also a lingering sadness. It’s entirely valid to reflect on the fear and pain surrounding their birth, as it was a moment filled with uncertainty.
Two weeks of bed rest preceded their birth; the first week in the hospital, the second at home due to my labor thankfully stalling. The night before their arrival, I sensed something was amiss; my daughter seemed to be moving less frequently. I tried to dismiss my concerns as paranoia, but the feeling persisted. The next day, a dull backache began to escalate, initially mild, but then turning more severe. I wasn’t experiencing contractions, so I attempted to remain calm, especially since my mother-in-law was visiting. However, as my worry grew, I quietly called my OB/GYN, who advised me to monitor my symptoms.
Upon my husband’s return home and my mother-in-law’s departure, the pain intensified, ultimately leading me to call my doctor again. I was advised to come in if the situation worsened. By the time we arrived at the hospital, I was in excruciating pain and feeling nauseous. My husband dropped me off at the entrance to expedite my admission while he parked the car.
At the labor and delivery desk, I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. When asked how far along I was, I hesitantly replied, “27 weeks,” only to be met with disbelief. As the nurse struggled to find my twins’ heartbeats, her growing concern signaled that something was indeed wrong. A doctor and several nurses swiftly entered the room, and the atmosphere shifted from calm to urgent when they confirmed that Baby B’s heart rate had plummeted.
I was informed that immediate monitoring was necessary, and if the heart rate did not stabilize, a C-section would be required. Within minutes, the situation escalated. The doctor explained the urgency of the matter, and an anesthesiologist began preparing for surgery. I turned to my husband, urging him to contact my parents as I was whisked away to the operating room, the panic rising within me.
Once in the OR, I felt a profound sense of isolation as the medical team worked around me. The operating table felt foreign, and I was engulfed in fear, hoping desperately for a positive outcome. The last thing I remember was being administered oxygen before everything faded to black.
Upon regaining consciousness in recovery, my first thoughts were of my children. The nurses reassured me that they were stable in NICU. Yet, instead of joy, I felt a profound sense of shame and loss. I was angry and sad that my experience had taken such a turn. Despite having survived, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being robbed of the serene birth experience I had envisioned. I quickly named my children, needing them to have identities as they fought for their lives in their incubators.
Scarlett arrived at 9:14 PM, weighing just two pounds and seven ounces, while her brother, Wyatt, weighed two pounds and four ounces, both born at 27 weeks. As I was wheeled into the NICU, I was met with a world of beeping machines and medical protocols. This was not the joyful introduction to motherhood I had always imagined. Instead, I felt a disconnection, as if my children belonged more to the medical apparatus keeping them alive than to me.
As their birthday approaches, memories flood back—the beeping machines, the uncertainty, the fear. Celebrating their birthdays is complex for preemie moms, filled with conflicting emotions. It’s crucial to recognize and validate this trauma; even though our children may thrive now, the journey was anything but peaceful. I share my story to remind others they are not alone in this experience. To all NICU mothers: you are stronger than you know. Even in moments when it feels like your world is unraveling, remember that you are enough.
For more insights and support, check out our blog post here and visit Kindbody for excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination. If you’re looking for a comprehensive guide on the process, Make a Mom offers valuable information.
Summary
This narrative reflects the unique emotional landscape of preemie mothers on their children’s birthdays. It captures the blend of gratitude, fear, and trauma that accompanies the premature birth experience, emphasizing the importance of acknowledging and validating these complex feelings while offering support to those on similar journeys.
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