September is NICU Awareness Month, and this year it feels especially personal. When our twins were born this past April, we spent six days with our daughter and sixteen days with our son, going back and forth between the NICU and home, all while trying to recover and care for our older children. I’m sharing our story to bring awareness and to encourage others who may be going through a similar journey.
When I first saw my babies being whisked away to the NICU, I wondered if I could have done anything differently, if a few more days in the womb could have changed anything. Looking back now, I realize there was nothing I could have done. It took a long time to forgive myself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault and it wasn’t something to feel guilty about. This moment, as difficult as it was, became a small but important chapter in our family’s story; one that led to growth, appreciation, and resilience.
A Surreal First Visit
I didn’t see my babies until the day after they were born due to being on a Magnesium drip. It was torture. I’m thankful for technology and my supportive husband, who took lots of pictures so I could see them. Being wheeled into the NICU for the first time felt surreal, like an out-of-body experience. In my line of work I’ve spent countless hours in NICUs, but nothing prepares you for when it’s your own children in those tiny beds with the monitors beeping.
I could only touch their little hands at first. I remember trying to ask as many questions as I could while splitting my attention between both babies. I knew a lot of medical terminology, but this felt foreign. With every monitor beep, my heart sank in fear of setbacks. I studied the small details in their faces: her dark, thick hair, and his birthmark on his forehead and ears just like his dad, trying to soak in everything. I pumped as often as I could, determined to give them every bit of strength and nourishment possible. It felt like the only thing I could do for them at the time.
Split Between Two Worlds
The hardest part came when I was discharged and had to leave without them. Learning the “ins and outs” of NICU life was overwhelming. Figuring out schedules, learning the NICU lingo, understanding what we were allowed to do as parents, and balancing the heartbreak of one twin going home while the other stayed behind.
The day we were able to bring our daughter home, my heart was bursting with joy, yet shattered into a million pieces as we kissed our son goodbye. The days that followed were exhausting, caring for our six older children, a newborn at home, and visiting our son under strict rules: no siblings allowed, and once discharged, babies couldn’t return, leaving us split between our babies and our older children. One of us would wait in the car with our daughter while the other sat at our son’s bedside, then we’d switch. And through it all, I was still recovering from an emergency C-section. It was the hardest thing we’ve ever walked through.
Being Held By Our Village
Yet even in the struggle, there were moments of hope. The first time I held both babies in my arms was a moment I will cherish for the rest of my life. Every ounce gained, every reduction in oxygen support, and every successful feed was a tiny victory we held on to.
The NICU staff made such a difference by including us in their care. One of our amazing nurses took the time to teach us feeding techniques, holding positions that are best for preemies, and encouraged us to decorate their spaces with artwork from their siblings. They even dressed our son for Easter in his little “first Easter” outfit, did a small photo shoot with him, and made sure we got all the pictures. Those small gestures meant everything. When we couldn’t be there every minute of every day, the updates we received over the phone gave us a little more peace of mind.
Our family and friends were also incredible. They stepped in with childcare, meals, and financial help to ease the burden of daily travel. In those moments, we could feel all the incredible love and support from friends and family surrounding us.
Encouragement For Other Families
The NICU taught me patience and how to celebrate each little milestone they met. It showed me that love carries us through the hardest days, even when the journey feels unbearable. Your village will stand with you and support you in those days you feel like you can’t do it. I gained a whole new perspective and appreciation for NICU staff and everything they do every day.
Today, our babies are thriving. Our daughter has the biggest personality, and our son is our little snuggle bug. Both happy and healthy. Our NICU journey challenged me in ways I never thought possible. My heart is still healing, but I am deeply grateful for our healthy, happy babies and the opportunity to share our story.
This NICU Awareness Month, I want to encourage other families: you got this. Give yourself lots of grace during this time. Celebrate the little day-to-day “wins”, soak in the small moments, and remember that it’s okay to not be okay every day. Being a NICU family changes you in hard ways, but brighter days are coming. Every single day, your baby is one step closer to home.
To the incredible NICU staff: thank you for your commitment, compassion, and dedication to our tiniest fighters. You will always be part of our story, and we are so thankful for you.
