Dear NICU nurses and doctors,
Where do I begin.
When we began this journey we were not happy that you all were a part of our “birth plan”.
Even though we planned on our boys being in the NICU, we could have never planned for the path they both traveled.
I have spent 110 days praying and pleading with God to let us leave the NICU behind with our two boys. Just waiting for the day we could break away. The problem is I didn’t realize it wouldn’t be a clean break.
I didn’t realize a part of my heart would always be left behind in the NICU.
Tonight I am crying writing this. One of my boys is at home and one isn’t, he is still in the care of you all and it is just now hitting me one day very soon we will be leaving the NICU and not coming back.
How do you say goodbye to people like all of you?
How do I thank all of you?
God, how do you all do everything that you do?
When our boys were born and we were thrown into this world it felt as though we were thrown into another universe, against our will. Our old lives were unrecognizable to us. We had been drug to the depths of our own personal Hell and had to some how keep going and keep living.
Everything inside of us fought letting the NICU become “normal”. The more normal it got the more our new reality set in…and quite frankly that was terrifying.
You helped us “break in” to our new roles and our new normal. You let us have our NICU parenting growing pains. You lead us through our darkest days. Days I would give anything to never have to relive. Days that were worse than our most terrifying nightmares.
You held us when we cried. You held our hands when they trembled with fear. You gave us hope when every stat, result and test told you there was none. You were friends, more like family when we felt so alone. You saw us at our worst. You saw our faith waver. You saw us yell at God, plead with him, beg him on our knees at the side our babies isolettes.
But more than that you held my babies when they cried out when I couldn’t be there. Through pain, through illness, through long nights, you held them when I ached to. You held there hands when they endured test after test, procedure after procedure and fight after fight, you gave them something to hold on to. You gave our boys hope you took precious time out of your very busy days to take time to make sure they felt that hope and love. You in their darkest moments made hope a reality for them. You were and always will be their family. You cared for them in ways I as their mother couldn’t. You cared for them in ways I wish I could have. You loved them right along with me.
You walked this horribly hard long road side by side with us. You carried our boys through it.
I will never forget our bond. The tears in your eyes when words didn’t need to be spoken. When medical diagnosis didn’t matter and we were hanging onto a miracle. I will never forget some of your eyes as parents yourselves seeing us walk a path that is too your worst nightmare. I will never forget the unwavering faith each of you had in my boys. The conviction that they would be ok and we would be taking both of them home with us.
I thank you for being patient with us when we panicked over every little thing, like when we were convinced a brady meant our son was going into cardiac arrest because a “heart event” wasn’t something we had gotten use to yet. I thank you for being so kind when we called you every two hours and called you at 2 or 3am just to call and see how our boys were doing. You knew we didn’t want to have to call that we wished with all our might we could just walk to our babies cribs and check on them and they weren’t a phone call away. Thank you for not getting frustrated when we went crazy and understanding it was our job as mom and dad to go crazy over our boys.
You each are so selfless. I am in awe of all of you. I admire each of you. I honestly do not know how you do what you do.
We were told on a very dark day, by a very wonderful person when I asked them, “how do you do this? How is this your job”, and they replied while holding me by the shoulders, “because I see way more miracles than I do tragedies, you just have to hold on to that miracle and not let go.”
So we held on, with all of our might we held on.
And now we are here…at the end.
While we don’t have much to give, God knows if we could we would we wanted to know that you each have a part of us a piece of our hearts and a place in our family for the rest of our lives.
Our boys will hear about their funny, sweet and kind nurses and their wonderful doctors and the team of miracle workers that cared for them. They will hear about their first holiday’s spent with you all and see pictures. We will make sure they remember you all.
I know it must be hard to only get updates that are few and far between. I know how rewarding it must be to see those miracles come visit. And I can only imagine it is hard for you when they leave too…
Just please know every time I kiss them goodnight and tuck them in…every time they laugh…for each milestone they hit…for every day I get with them…I will thank God for each of you.
Because with out all of you those moments wouldn’t be possible.
Thank you for all that you do.
Dear NICU nurses and doctors,