When you have preemie babies, every number tells a story. These figures signal if they can leave the incubator, if they’ve conquered jaundice, and if they’re inching closer to the warmth of home.
Life in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) is a series of significant milestones for both the infants and their dedicated medical team. As a mom of premature twins, I faced moments I never thought would move me, until they did.
- The first time I held them (not right away).
- The first time I nursed them (days later).
- The first diaper change (not for a few days).
- The first time they donned tiny clothes (at 10 days old).
I still remember the first time I glimpsed their beautiful faces without wires and tubes: my daughter at 3 days and my son at 9 days. Their reunion happened when they were just 12 days old, and the day they finally came home after two weeks was a celebration like no other. Watching their older brothers meet them for the first time was a moment etched in my heart.
I cherished those quiet feedings in our bedroom, free from the beeping machines. Finally, we were together as a family of six.
With premature babies, the typical milestones—holding heads up, rolling over, crawling, walking—often fade into the background. They will hit those marks when they’re ready.
Reflecting on my first child, I worried endlessly about his progress. He walked late, talked even later, and I fixated on his eating habits and sleep patterns. Some anxieties were valid; he was diagnosed with a speech delay at age 3 and began therapy. Yet, he eventually walked at 15 months and thrived, despite my worries. Now at 5½, he’s the size of a 6-year-old, and while he only ate four foods (none of which were fruits or veggies), he can read and write, even though he once had a habit of tearing books apart.
By the time my second child came along, I had relaxed a bit. His milestones were a whirlwind—rolling by 3 months, crawling at 6 months, and walking right at his first birthday. Remarkably, he was speaking in sentences by 18 months, outpacing his older brother.
When my twins entered the world at 34 weeks, it was a whirlwind of emotions. Still, I grasped the daily statistics shared in the NICU as markers of progress towards what truly mattered: getting stronger, healthier, and finally going home. I celebrated every small victory: holding them, inhaling their newborn scent, marveling at their tiny hands and feet, and feeling immense gratitude for the medical advancements that made their survival possible.
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In the end, it’s all about celebrating the moments that truly matter, no matter how small or big they may seem.