It's been 55 days since my daughter was born. 55 days that she should've spent in my belly, and instead have been spent in the NICU. 55 days since I've been pumping for her. 55 days since I had an emergency c-section.
But it doesn't feel like it's been 55 days, it feels like only a few days. It's been a blur since the day she was born.
She weighed 3 lbs 4 oz as of last night. She no longer needs a temp probe, so she gets to wear clothes. She's still on CPAP. Her lungs are still very "sick", as the doctor put it, so oral feedings may be out of the question for a while longer. They can sometimes start oral feedings at 34 weeks corrected (she's 32). I know I have to be patient with her, but I just wish her lungs were stronger. I wish this didn't happen. I wish I was still pregnant.
And this year is the first year where I've been upset during the holidays. I can't go to the store without crying. I see toys, clothes, regular sized diapers and I can't help but think about how I should still be pregnant. I cry when I see babies because I only have one of my babies home with me at the moment. I want them both home. Spending time with the family is probably the thing I dread the most. It seems like everyone is having an amazing time and loves playing with my son, but I can't help but think about how badly I wish my daughter could be here, too. It feels incomplete without her around right now.
I know one day I'll get to take her home, but I wish she could be home now. Or, I wish she was still safe, warm, and growing in my belly.