I've had many people over the last week say to me, "at least you have almost made it to 30 weeks", "that's great", "at least you know what to expect", and my favorite, "at least you don't have to be miserable walking around at 40 weeks". I don't take offense to these people, because obviously they have no idea what it means to have a premie, but to be honest, it kind of hurts. So I thought, well, why not put it out there what "knowing what to expect" entails.
- There is no bonding moment. Immediately after delivery the NICU staff takes the baby and does quick assessments. They hung Caleb over my face for one look and then they took him away. I didn't see him again until the next evening.
- It means looking at this poor little alienesque being in an incubator with wires and tubes everywhere and feeling like a complete failure. For the first week I cried everytime I saw him knowing that he should be warm and comfortable in my tummy still.
- Having a 30 weeker means walking out of the hospital empty. Empty abdomen- no feeling of life- and empty arms.
- Having a premie meant sitting next to the incubator those first weeks just watching the monitor, praying that his stats don't drop again because it is so scary when the nurse had to come over and rouse him.
-In the NICU you don't really have a baby. It felt like the nurse's baby that I was just visiting. You had to have permission and help to feed, bathe, or even hold the baby that you had created.
Obviously there is more, but these are the things that stick out in my mind. So why do I say all of this? Not for sympathy- that's not what I am looking for. People go through this every day- and if we were still in Papua New Guinea, I would have lost my child two weeks ago. I also don't feel sorry for what we went through, as God was there with us every single day! I just want people to realize how much all of this hurts to be facing the same situation again. I feel like a failure again and I don't need people telling me to look on the bright side when I KNOW that there is nothing bright about having a 30 weeker. Maybe instead people could have a little faith in me and for me, and help me look forward to 34. Maybe, by God's grace, I could even be miserable walking around at 40!
- There is no bonding moment. Immediately after delivery the NICU staff takes the baby and does quick assessments. They hung Caleb over my face for one look and then they took him away. I didn't see him again until the next evening.
- It means looking at this poor little alienesque being in an incubator with wires and tubes everywhere and feeling like a complete failure. For the first week I cried everytime I saw him knowing that he should be warm and comfortable in my tummy still.
- Having a 30 weeker means walking out of the hospital empty. Empty abdomen- no feeling of life- and empty arms.
- Having a premie meant sitting next to the incubator those first weeks just watching the monitor, praying that his stats don't drop again because it is so scary when the nurse had to come over and rouse him.
-In the NICU you don't really have a baby. It felt like the nurse's baby that I was just visiting. You had to have permission and help to feed, bathe, or even hold the baby that you had created.
Obviously there is more, but these are the things that stick out in my mind. So why do I say all of this? Not for sympathy- that's not what I am looking for. People go through this every day- and if we were still in Papua New Guinea, I would have lost my child two weeks ago. I also don't feel sorry for what we went through, as God was there with us every single day! I just want people to realize how much all of this hurts to be facing the same situation again. I feel like a failure again and I don't need people telling me to look on the bright side when I KNOW that there is nothing bright about having a 30 weeker. Maybe instead people could have a little faith in me and for me, and help me look forward to 34. Maybe, by God's grace, I could even be miserable walking around at 40!
6 comments:
YOU are amazing! Where in the world does that whole failure thing come from?? Holy Schmoley!
You are an awesome mom, wife, and woman of faith and courage. And having a short timer on that oven of yours diminishes you in no way. In fact, it requires MORE faith and courage and patience and care to deal with your complications AND have a toddler at the same time. Eek!
We are praying for 40, long, hot, miserable weeks for you! Then a couple of days in the hospital (which is totally not enough rest), and then all of you home together with Caleb poking baby in the eyes and begging you to read to him while you're trying to feed!
Love you all!
Robin
We'll keep praying for 34 weeks or longer! I remember watching you go through everything with Caleb and the pain and exhaustion that was oh so evident in both you and Ben. Fortunately, you have the Great Physician on your team and He is able to keep little Thane in "the cooker" for another 10 weeks if that's his plan for you.
I'm so sorry to hear that you've been so discouraged and frustrated by things people have said in an effort to be encouraging. Just remember that you have people all across the country and all across the world who are praying for the entire Kumor clan. God is going to carry you through this.
We look forward to meeting the latest addition to the family, but we will gladly wait another 10 weeks to get word of his arrival. Keep your head up and your eyes focused on Him. Love ya!
Erin
Hi sweetheart! You are in my prayers. Would you mind if I use some of you comments in this blog to share with physicians and nurses? We are constantly trying to show them the perspective of the families (we recently got them to allow siblings in for supervised visits.... 30 minutes at a time and with a Child Life Specialist).
Love you!
=)
So, I just wanted to say thanks for the support to everyone. It was kind of a rough night/morning and I just needed to kind of voice some frustrations. I don't mean to offend anyone, because honestly I can't even remember who has said what to me. I think it was just more me sitting and really thinking and remembering about Caleb. I've shed my tears though, and I'm ready to take things day by day. :) Love you all.
Hey Stephanie!! I just wanted to let you all know that I am definitely praying for you and your upcoming bundle of joy. Stay strong...I know that you can, you are an amazing woman.
Love ya,
Steph
I kind of understand how you might feel a failure. When we were unable to conceive (years ago now), I felt like I was a failure. People said well-meaning but unhelpful things that hurt.
We'll be praying for 10 more weeks! May you be really uncomfortable :) Wouldn't that be great!!
Love,
Judy
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