Four letters. NICU. Almost 3 months later, the thoughts and images still haunt me. When I have anxiety, I'm pretty sure it's because of those 5 horrible days.
My sweet Cooper was born on a Tuesday and as you may have read in my previous post, was sent to the NICU on Wednesday night. The really sad part is that nothing was ever truly wrong with him. The doctor told us on Thursday morning that he was almost positive that Cooper had a pseudo seizure because he was brain activity was perfect. It's not that I'm trying to re-live the moment, but it's on my mind and I have to write it down.
Anxiety. Pain. Heartbreak. Guilt.
When a woman becomes a mother, all you want to do is hold your sweet baby. The baby you just carried for approximately 9 or 10 months. You want to kiss him/her. You want to hold them tight. The day after my baby was born, he was taken from me. I had to walk into a somber place where all I could do was stare at him and touch his hand. Now don't get me wrong, there were very sick babies in the NICU. And my heart broke for those parents as well. But seeing your baby like that is not something I would wish on anyone.
Finally after 5 days in the NICU with perfectly good health, they let me take my baby home. Where he belonged. By that point, I was annoyed that they had kept him so long. I know they only wanted to make sure he was okay. I know they had good intentions.
My post partum depression has mostly left me. For that I am thankful. I do however still have some anxiety even with my medications. I guess it's just one of those things you will always remember.
I am letting go of my guilt.
My beautiful boy will be 3 months old next week and we are enjoying every minute.
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