Dear Preemie Mom,
I see you. I see the fear and confusion etched on your face as you leave your precious baby behind in the hospital, fighting for every breath after arriving too soon. I see you diligently taking notes as the doctor explains the complex machines surrounding your little one, desperately trying to absorb all the medical terminology while your heart aches for the moment you can hold her close.
I see you making the daily trek to the hospital, determined to be present for every moment you can. I notice your shoulders droop as you brace yourself for yet another long day of visiting, only to leave without your baby once more.
I see you when that joyous day finally arrives, and you bring your baby home. Happiness floods your heart, but it’s tinged with a shadow of fear. You wonder if you can care for her as well as the doctors did. You question whether you are enough.
Fast forward a couple of months, and I see you filled with joy at having your baby by your side all the time, yet feeling overwhelmed by the constant attention she requires. Appointments with doctors, specialists, and therapists seem to dominate your life, leaving you feeling frustrated. You remind yourself to be grateful that your baby has fought so hard to be here, but sometimes that gratitude feels like a heavy weight. Why did this happen to your family? Why must your baby struggle when others seem to thrive effortlessly?
I see you at a birthday gathering for a friend whose child was born around the same time your own was expected to arrive. Your smile is genuine, yet it carries a bittersweetness. You feel joy for your friend while grappling with the fact that your baby is still on a long road to catch up.
I see you at night, tears streaming down your face, overwhelmed with guilt and anger. You replay moments in your mind: if only you had done something differently, maybe your baby would have stayed in the womb longer. The what-ifs plague you relentlessly, and self-blame becomes a familiar companion.
I see you turning down invitations to playgrounds, lunches, and outings during that crucial first year. You’re terrified of exposing your little one to illness. The doctors have warned you: this winter is critical, and you must limit outings. So you find yourself spending quiet days at home, holding onto the hope that spring will bring brighter days.
I see you meticulously packing your diaper bag, knowing it’s unlike anyone else’s. You need hand sanitizer, extra oxygen tanks, and protective masks. Stepping into a grocery store feels like entering a battlefield as you assess risks and strategize your exit, praying that your family remains healthy.
I see you struggle to answer the question about your baby’s age. You know that revealing the truth will spark a wave of inquiries, and you’re exhausted from explaining. But withholding the truth feels like a disservice to your child, who fought valiantly to enter this world. So you navigate a delicate balance, sometimes sharing the truth and sometimes not, depending on the day.
I see you questioning if you are the mother your baby truly needs. You wonder if someone else could manage all the therapies and special arrangements more effectively. You reflect on a life you once envisioned, perhaps one filled with a traditional work-life balance that now seems a distant memory. It’s not the journey you expected when becoming a parent.
I don’t have all the answers for you, and I wish I did. I long for answers just as much as you do. But please know this: I see you. I see your struggle, and you are not alone in this journey.
With understanding,
A fellow Preemie Mom
For more insights, check out our post on what to expect with a premature baby, and if you’re considering at-home options for insemination, this reputable retailer offers quality kits. Lastly, the CDC provides excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination to further assist you.
Leave a Reply