We haven’t posted in a very long while, so there is a lot to update you on…. Once we do (in the next post) you’ll understand! But first, a post I feel I must do this first:

September is Pprom and NICU awareness month. My (and of course OUR) life/lives changed dramatically this year because after my water broke at 19 weeks +5 days. Every morning, every evening, and every moment for 12weeks, we worried our little Izzy would come earlier than her little body could handle. Then she came (8 weeks and 3 days early), and we worried again: every moment while she was in the NICU for the next 45 days….. then she came home and they told us to watch her for every moment we fed her, because she could stop breathing(as she had done the morning we left the nicu).  Then, one day about 6 weeks later,  almost without notice, with no fan fare, she was safe…. She was suddenly old enough that simply breathing  and eating at the same time was possible…she had outgrown this place of every day fear. Now , at 4 months adjusted age (6 months out of the womb) She has blossomed into a beautiful, happy, giggling little baby.

 

 Pprom (premature rupture of membranes) simply means that your water breaks early…. Really early. And for us it was REALLY early. 19 weeks and 5 days. The doctors in the state of Oregon don’t even consider it worth their time to help you try to keep a baby when your water breaks that early.

 

Be aware of this struggle. Be aware of this place people have to live in while they pray for their little ones. Be aware of the loss. But be aware of the hope. @littleheartbeats

 

As far as I’m concerned, the NICU is a place of miracles. But everyday that I walked those halls, I heard so many stories…. I heard a baby cry and no parents able to be there to comfort it. I heard the alarm bells of hearts stopping and lungs giving out. I heard the cries of a mom trying to produce enough milk when establishing production via a pump cause the baby will be too small and weak to even try to breastfeed for weeks or months. I heard the pure joy in everyone’s laughter when a baby’s lungs were strong enough to do some good screaming.  I heard the sound of nurses and doctors feet rushing a baby to the surgery room. I heard the quiet… a nicu is kept SO very quiet to help the little ones brains develop. I heard the cries of a mother unable to hold her baby because it’s considered “too traumatic” for their little bodies. I heard the nurses that gave their everything, including making time to create programs to help parents through the tough road ahead (the nurses that created a book program, and a lovey program (for moms to make the only thing they are allowed to leave with their little one when they have to go home at night), the nurses who made banners with the children’s names on them, and the nurses that hand painted beautiful little rocks for the moms on Mother’s Day)). And I heard the sound of the banners with the names celebrating each child being taken down…. But you never want to ask why because you want to believe they all go home.

 

Parents don’t leave the rooms when they are there (you spend every second you can with your little one and consider it a waste of time you could be spending with your little one to chit chat with anyone), so it’s rare to see other parents going through the same thing, but when you do see them, you can hardly speak. You want to give as much support as you can, but it’s so painful to speak of what you are dealing with, so you give them a knowing head nod of support, but really, they don’t even notice because they are so focused on their little one. 

 

With all of this, the NICU is truly a place of miracles.

 

And I thank God for our little miracle.

 

Isabel Rose.

Ppromd 19+ 5

Born 31+ 4