today sebastian and i rode the big bus home and sat upstairs. he was tired and melted into my lap and as the bus rocked and swayed, we both settled into little dream worlds instead of playing "eye-spy". instead, i played "i-remember".
when the babies were in the NICU, i remember being amazed at the care being given to their positioning. every four hours, a nurse would come along and turn their tiny bodies, twisting a cloth to support their positions. "it is to prevent bedsores" a kind nurse explained. considering that a full term baby basically lies on its back for its first few weeks, i thought this odd.
but i also learned, the carefully chosen positions helped improve their blood circulation throughout organs and epidermis, and since the babies’ skin was still so newly formed (skin comes in at about 25 weeks, ours were born at 26) too much weight for too long would have worn their skin off. i couldn’t believe that two pounds could be so harmful.
when i first saw the babies, they were in bassinettes covered in cling film. i remember, aside from the bewilderment of this whole hushed NICU world, the pain, guilt and devastation and eerie peace, and believing that these three, 24-27 cm long hairy, faceless, creatures whose eyes hadn’t even opened came from the fresh (low, it must be admitted) scar from my abdomen i was extremely apprehensive. how medical is cling film? it was the same brand i used to cover sebastian’s frozen peas in the microwave.
i can remember how they had triplets one and two beside each other, and how triplet three was opposite them. i can remember the doctor telling magnificent that the babies were stable for now, and just looking at them and wondering how such tiny, sickly scraps of humanity could possibly be classified as "stable". had he seen them? how could he, through the blurry cling film, the goggles covering their eyes, the tubes slipping into their noses, the ventilator forcing open their mouths and covering their cheeks and chins, the iv’s tearing into their arms and the bandages covering their arms, the duoderms that encompassed their chests, the glowing blood pressure monitor attached to their feet, the caps covering their heads??? where did the diagnosis come from?
their hearts were beating.
NICU…it has almost been one year since we wiped tears away and said goodbye to you, but your surreal surroundings flow through me still. maybe i need some careful positions to improve my circulation.
Reader interactions
8 Replies to “”
Tess
I am in the process of journaling our pregnancy and birth story. I haven’t gotten to the birth and NICU days yet, but they are coming. Your recollections of your children’s birth are what convinced me that I needed to put in all on paper. Thanks for the nudge! Your story is a testament to what little fighters you have! God bless you!
I love when you remember…thanks for sharing all of it!!!
xo lyns
Hi Tess. Hope your cold is feeling better.
I often stop and remember my birth story, how scary things were for me, and the loss of my grandfather the day of the birth. It’s taken a long time to accept things. Some say, don’t dwell on it-it’s in the past. But for me, it helps to reminisce-it’s theraputic.
Great post.
Good blog this morning T. I always read it before the drive to work. Thank-you for putting a little smile on my face.
How’s J’s tooth?
P
Tess, I love reading your memories… They are so detailed and so unique… I never did find out why the plastic wrap was used in the NICU- is that to retain heat?
I’ve recently ran across your blog and have enjoyed reading about your family and seeing all the pictures. Today’s post brings back so many memories of my own 2 pounder – who turned 21 last week. Your days ahead are certain to be interesting. Speaking from experience here too – we have 3 young adopted children who were all born within 10 months of each other. Hang on — it’s a wild ride!
Hi Tess, This post reminded me of a recent Spirit of the West concert(went with Joyce Reid)…I don’t know if you know their song “Goodbye Grace (I don’t ever want to see your face again)” – a lovely ballad recorded 14 yrs ago. The lead singer explained that his son was born at 26 weeks- and they spent months at Grace Hospital in Vancouver- he wrote the song the day they gratefully took their son home from Grace Hospital. He told the story and it was hard to hold back the tears – partic having followed yr blog since day 1…it says so much so simply.
Tess,
I remmebered it too.
They are so lovely, full of energy though they’re so small. Look@@ it’s the power of our God, He create and He bless.