After 100+ days in the NICU with my baby girl born at 25 weeks, I struggled to cope with a variety of things.
Feelings of unworthiness.
The pain of not coming home with my baby.
I wondered if I had done something wrong.
I dealt with feeling alone.
Blaming myself for what happened.
There were nights I stayed up crying, asking God how to make it better.
I worried I wasn’t doing enough because I couldn’t live in the NICU like some moms could. I had to come home and continue “normal life.” I was breastfeeding while my supply was dipping. Everything felt fragile.
There were so many factors pulling at my heart.
I got the call that Nova was a week away from coming home.
My heart burst into a million emotions — excitement, fear, worry. I didn’t even know how to react. I was able to stay a few days with her the week before discharge, and when the doctor told me she was three days on full feeds, off oxygen, and would be coming home — not just coming home, but on Christmas Eve — it felt like the most beautiful, cherished gift I could ever receive.
I was beyond excited. But I also went into protection mode. I made rules. Boundaries. Guidelines. Because my baby girl was finally coming home, and I refused to let anything jeopardize that.
Life after the NICU became amazing, worrisome, beautiful — and raw.
But with that beauty came struggles.
Drying up my milk supply sooner than I wanted.
As a NICU mom 💜 you never forget the sounds. The beeping when heart rates dip. The alarms when oxygen drops. The word “bradycardia.” Nurses constantly coming in for vitals. Doctors rounding. Waiting for answers you may or may not like.
You’d think once you’re home, it all goes away.
We came home on a monitor — one that barely worked half the time. I woke up every hour checking to make sure she was breathing. Sometimes I still do. Not because I don’t trust God. Not because I don’t love Him. But because I’m a mom. I worry. I stress.
And preemie life isn’t “normal.” Their immune systems are fragile. Milestones are different. Your baby might be six months old by birthday but only two months adjusted. It’s hard to constantly shift your mindset and remind yourself that everything will be okay.
Many of us go through emergency C-sections too — adding another layer of trauma to heal from.
The love I have felt with my baby girl home — even through the exhaustion, frustration, stress, and anxiety — nothing prepares you for how beautiful motherhood is. On the good days and even on the hard ones.
The Word tells us in First Epistle of Peter 5:7 to cast all our worries onto Him because He cares for us.
And in Gospel of Matthew 6:25, we are told not to worry about our life — what we will eat or drink, or about our bodies, or what we will wear.
That doesn’t mean we won’t feel worry. It means we don’t have to carry it alone.
If you are in the NICU right now:
Love on your baby every single day.
Pray over them. Speak life over them.
If your hospital has a Ronald McDonald House, take advantage of it.
If they have a book vending machine — use the coins.
If they offer the Dolly Parton Imagination Library, sign up. It’s such a gift.
The NICU community is beautiful.
And don’t forget to advocate for your baby. If something doesn’t feel right, speak up. You have that right. If you need a different nurse or have questions for the doctors, ask them. No one will fight harder for your baby than you.
The Lord is with you. He will not forsake you.
I pray my experience encourages you. I’ve felt the guilt, the fear, the exhaustion. And I promise you — it will be okay.
You are stronger than you think.
