Moving Past the NICU

I read a very interesting article yesterday about the rate of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in NICU parents. The article explained that(though this isn't intended to make light of these situations), unlike a car accident or rape,the NICU is a constant, continual trauma, and isn't necessarily centered on one event. When parents have a child born so sick or so prematurely that the possibility of their baby surviving is slim, every day brings more bad news, surgeries, tests, etc, and the stress and fear never completely lets up. Coupled with the alarms and noises of the NICU that the author describes as a war zone in it's own right, it is easy to see how a significant mental illness can develop. My experience was far from that extreme, and that is 100% because, once he was born, Nick's survival was never in question. Yes, it was hard to leave him behind at night, but I think complaining about how hard it is to leave a healthy, thriving preemie behind in the NICU is the preemie version of a #firstworldproblem. I do not, and never have, had anything to complain about.But still. I am finding it hard to move past the NICU. I know this is my fault, because, by writing this blog, I am, in a way, dwelling on the fact that Nick is a preemie and not a "normal" baby. By running a corresponding Instagram account, I have "met" many other preemie and micro preemie parents. Their stories about what their families have been through and everything their child has had to overcome is inspiring and unbelievable at times.Since their babies are almost always born weeks earlier than Nick, it makes me want to stop writing this blog, because I feel Nick's story is too easy and straightforward to be lumped in the same category as their child (see my post on the March for Babies for more on this feeling.)Finally-and this is probably something I should change in the interest of my mental health-my Instagram account has the has tag #placentalabruption in the little bio part of your profile. This means my newsfeed features other women sharing that same hashtag, which is often used to share a birth story in which their baby either died from the abruption, or the abruption caused their baby to be born when their sweet baby was too premature to survive. Their pain is palpable and raw, and their posts are as beautiful as they are godawful and sad. Today I cam across a post of a woman who had a normal, drama free pregnancy, only to loose her full term daughter to a placental abruption. She shared how she scattered her daughter's ashes at sea, and it was so beautiful and awful, and it's hard to believe an Instagram post could be so powerful. Posts like these always make me cry, because that was us. Nick and I were just like her, except I was in the hospital when I abrupted instead of at home, like I so easily could have been. By making the decision to keep me in the hospital until I delivered, my MFM doctor saved my baby's life. I think about our doctors and nurses and how lucky I am every.single.day. Over the past four months, helping NICU moms and women with high risk pregnancies have become a passion of mine.Two weeks ago, I was accepted into a fellowship program through the March of Dimes called the Gretchen Carlson Advocacy Fellowship.I found out about it through the March of Dimes' Facebook page, and I wanted it, badly. On Wednesday, we had our first webinar, which gave me and the 19 other fellows an overview of what to expect throughout the next year. The program will begin with a conference in Washington DC next month, where we will meet with leadership of the March of Dimes to learn about the Preemie Reauthorization Bill. The following day, we will meet with our state senators and representatives to advocate for this bill on behalf of the March of Dimes. We will be trained via webinars about how to do similar advocacy work at the state level throughout the year. It's an incredible opportunity, and I feel very fortunate to have been chosen. The women I will be working with are incredible (the two other women from Indiana include a professor with a phd who is currently conducting research on women's reproductive patterns in Italy, and the other is a pediatrician who oversees her hospital's newborn nursery. RIGHT?) The accomplishments of these women are inspiring and intimidating, but I am proud to be representing "normal" NICU moms. I believe our voice is powerful, and I hope I can adequately convey everything I have written about in my blog. A year ago, I had never heard of a placental abruption and I only distantly knew of parents who had a child in the NICU, and next month I will be on Capitol Hill speaking on behalf of the March of Dimes. I absolutely believe things happen for a reason, and I believe I have a calling to work with this cause. But still, it keeps me preoccupied with prematurity, which brings me back to obsessing about how lucky Nick and I are. As excited and motivated as I am to be working with the March of Dimes, I believe my passion and calling is to work directly with NICU moms, preferably in the hospital and NICU we were in. I have volunteered for a program called Sidelines, which provides peer support for women on longterm bed rest. I am so excited to be a part of this organization, because, despite all the nonprofits and programs out there that work with NICU families, their is hardly anything that exclusively deals with women on bed rest. I will be matched with a woman that has similar complications as I did, and I will email and call her to provide support until she delivers. I cannot wait to begin working with Sidelines, but still, I'm stuck in preemie land again. Finally, when it comes to dealing with my actual preemie, it is hard to see Nick as a "normal" baby. It is difficult to do this because of his adjusted age, which will last until he is two, but I feel he will always have an star by his name. I feel he will always be the bed rest baby, the placental abruption baby, the NICU baby. On Tuesday, we head back to the NICU for a follow up clinic to assess his milestones. Hopefully, Nick will pass everything with flying colors, and hopefully that will help me to see that he is a normal, healthy baby. But still.