Why

I haven’t posted on here…in well…months. Emory is 8 months old and thriving! She is such a blessing.

So why can I not shake this heartache. I feel I haven’t been able to let go of everything that happened, from the initial day my water broke, to the days in the hospital, to the delivery, to the NICU journey. Why can I not heal…let go…move forward. It’s not something I talk about to hardly anyone. It’s in the past so, and I received my miracle so why am I am still “whining” about it. Ugh 😑 These are things I say to myself, imagining people are thinking them of me, even when they may not. Why do I do this…why am I the way I am. I’m angry today. I want to be happy, I want to move past this, but the second I’m trying to take a bath and I hear my child crying after I just laid her down…I run out there to pick her up. My husband thinks I think he’s incapable of taking care of her as I steal her from his hands, but truly it’s me… I’m incapable. I’m incapable of letting anyone care for her if I’m in the room. There were too many missed feedings, holdings, consoling. I wasn’t always there every time she cried. I wasn’t t always there to change her diaper. Sometimes she would still be crying and I would have to leave anyway. Why I couldn’t I just be there 24/7. Why did I leave her… why did I go into labor so soon. It wasn’t supposed to be that way!!!! I feel so much guilt and anger and sadness. Why can’t I let it go!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I remember people seeing me as strong through the process…but I never actually felt strength. I was weak…God was strong!!!! I know I can over come these feelings I’m having right now, but I almost feel like I’ve forgotten how. I want mental rest, spiritual peace…I don’t want distractions anymore 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

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Smiling through the pain

Though my heart aches I need only to remember God. God can do the impossible, God can move mountains, God can take my sorrow and trade it for Joy! Sometimes when you’re going through it you can only see the struggle but we have to be able to look past that. We have to know there is a beautiful reward once you reach the top of that mountain. Sometimes the climb is difficult and you want to give up… but we can’t! Don’t let the devil get you down, don’t let words, actions, circumstances, steal your joy!

I recently have felt so defeated that I’ve considered lots of different scenarios in my head. Some are terrifying. I constantly struggle with anxiety and depression…but today I’m choosing to let it go. I’m going to say good bye to feeling sorry for myself, feeling angry over my circumstances, & feeling sad all the damn time! I have so many reasons to be happy. My daughter is healthy, happy, and beautiful. She has overcome the devil so many times because God is with her. She is a miracle for even being alive! I cannot imagine life without her. She will be home before I know it, I’ll get 3 weeks off to snuggle her every day. She is my hero!!!!

Learning to deal

Lately I’ve been so overwhelmed with sadness when instead I should be celebrating in victory. Victory that my child is alive. Victory that she is so healthy. Victory over every small obstacle that Emory has over come! But instead all I do is cry. I cry when I wake up and my daughter isn’t at home with me, I cry when we pray for her at dinner, I cry when I’m at work and my mom or sisters send me photos of them with her, I cry every night that we leave her yet again in the NICU. Walk past the nurses station fast enough to avoid eye contact, I’m lucky if I make it to the car before the tears flow. Most days I barely make it out the doors of the NICU. My stomach hits my throat, my eyes well up, I feel completely broken. Why do I allow myself to harbor these feelings. Why can I not move on and accept my circumstances. We’ve been in the NICU for 92 days… yes I’m counting. The frustration is that I have a perfectly healthy, happy baby who’s only hurdle is learning to eat from a bottle… simple right? She should be home in no time…right? The question that grips my heart every time it’s asked. The hard truth is, we don’t know when we’re going home. We know what her due date was but that doesn’t mean we’re going home then. Emory has horrible reflux and they cannot give medicine for it as it will cause her to be more susceptible to infection, and we don’t want that! But watching your child cry from pain while trying to eat, and choke on her milk because she has no rhythm for “suck-swallow-breathe” is so upsetting. It’s hard… it’s hard watching every battle she’s gone through. But this… its the final stretch, we’re almost home, and yet each day drags on. Each day my heart aches more and more for her to be with me. Somehow I feeL I’m not allowed to feel this way. I should be praising and thanking God for all of our blessings…but it’s hard to do that through the pain. It’s hard to not be angry, it’s hard to not cry out, it’s hard… to function for just 5 seconds.

I relive the hardest day of my life over and over again leaving my daughter at the NICU. I’m trying to be okay…learning to deal. 💔

Father’s Day in the NICU

I haven’t blogged in awhile and I’m regretting it. As much as I feel like I don’t have the time I need this time for my mental health. Our sermon today wasn’t a “feel good Father’s Day sermon” in fact our pastor preached on depression. Which hits home to me with my own father. Something I’ve been running from for almost 5 years. Depression and anxiety are terrible and they can cause a landslide from just one pebble. My heart aches for my own father today but I feel renewed from the love of my spiritual father. God is the only one who can continuously fill up my empty cup. My life would be in shambles if it wasn’t for my faith. On even my weakest days, I’m reminded I am strong. So I will celebrate this joyous day and my husband celebrates his 1st Father’s Day with our beautiful daughter. She is such a gift.

Heartache

I’ve been reflecting a lot after reading an article the other day. The short explanation of it was that we cannot compare our grief to someone else’s. I’m one those people who will be quick to think “oh someone out there has it much worse, I shouldn’t feel this way.” Well through this whole Nicu experience, I’ve had moments or breaking down followed by instant regret for not being satisfied with what I’ve been given. It’s always so easy for us as humans to look at what we don’t have. My mind instantly attacks to the negative, like a leech and the positive is an after thought. How do I become that ray of sunshine during the storm. How do I become full of hope when I feel hopeless. Well there’s only one simple answer, and that’s God. God is there to fill that gap in our lives. To be there in a moment of sadness but also in a moment of joy. So while I’m allowed to be sad for my current situation I also have to realize it’s not my final destination.

A “real” parent

One of the hardest things about having a baby in the NICU is trying to feel like a “real” parent. You don’t get to bond with your baby in the natural way a mother wants to after they’re born. They are whisked out of your body and taken to a different room without even so much as being able to give them a kiss.

I was lucky enough that Emory was stabilized quickly and I got to “see” her for a minute. I say “see” because I didn’t have my glasses on and I couldn’t really see anything except for a nurse holding up a blanket that supposedly had my daughter inside, it’s laughable now, but I truly couldn’t see her, and I felt this guilt come over me. You watch tv and you have this image in your head, that you give birth and you see/hold your baby tightly in your arms and you cry. You cry because you feel that initial bond with your baby, that motherly instinct. Well I didn’t have that, at least not right away.

About two hours post c-section they wheeled me down in my bed to again, “see” my daughter (still no glasses). I was able to reach out and those little fingers curled around my hand, and while I felt happy, still no tears of joy, no bond. Instead I was overcome with guilt. I’d failed my daughter by having her early, and there was no way she could love me. I felt low, like I was the worst mom. I’m sure you’re thinking, wow…how could you feel this way. Well that deep connection I felt when she was in the womb with me was gone. It was ripped away from me so fast that I felt emotionally numb. My daughter was fighting a battle that she shouldn’t have to be fighting and it was my fault. Looking back now, I know that’s not true, and there’s nothing I did to cause her to come early, but those were real feelings. I had a hard time visiting her in the NICU while I was still in the hospital. I experienced those feelings of guilt for quite some time, and still do every now and then.

But finally, 5 days after being born, I got to hold my daughter. I was overwhelmed with emotions… that was MY baby girl and I finally felt that deep connection again that I had with her inside me. I felt her heart beat, her lungs breathing and I was suddenly feeling like a real parent. Thank goodness my husband filled the gap for me when I was feeling down. He was visiting Emory in the NICU every chance he got, he was there to comfort her while my heart was healing from separation anxiety and uncertainty of my feelings.

Now we get to do things in the NICU like, change her diaper, check her temperature, and even give her a bath! Our first time doing that was yesterday and once again those mom instincts of feeling connected to my daughter, like I was able to take care of her even if for just a brief minute hit my heart.

It’s hard y’all, being away from your child. But it’s even harder when they’re fighting a daily battle and you can’t always be there to just hold their hand. I’m thankful for the company I work for as they are allowing me to take time off as needed and if I have to drop everything and go they don’t even bat an eye. I couldn’t imagine going through this and losing my job, or being in a position where I wasn’t allowed as much freedom to be there for my daughter. “Praise god from whom all blessings flow!”🙏

At a loss for words

Through this journey I’ve learned something about myself. Sadness and worry truly shut me down… I don’t want to talk to anyone and my mind can’t function. It’s hard to even talk to my husband. I read up on everything I can, but literally nothing can prepare me for the next day because anything can change at any minute. Why is this so hard?