Good afternoon friends! Miracle Baby Monday is here and this guest post is brought to you by my lovely mommy blogger friend and fellow mama of preemie twins, who you can find at The Nitty Gritty Mommy. She is a very gifted writer and I am very fortunate to have her here today sharing her story. Rather than give you the play by play of their NICU journey, she talks about the emotional aspect of being a mother of preemies. She echoes my sentiments exactly in this beautiful narrative.
why me? A journey
“From pretty early on, I had a terrible pregnancy with the twins. The situation was dire, and we were told we would definitely lose one, if not both twins. It was so surreal and awful that I could barely comprehend it. I kept waiting for the doctor to say, “but, we can do this to fix it”. He never said it. There was nothing anyone could do. And I thought over and over, “Why me? Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this punishment?”Things went from bad to worse, and I found myself in the hospital for eight horrible weeks. I was depressed and sick and resentful. I laid in that hospital bed bitter and tragic and terrified. I know it’s terrible, but I begrudged all the happy people in the rooms around me with their easy pregnancies and healthy babies. I hated people who could come and go freely, while I was on strict bedrest, and even then no one could tell me that it would all be worth it in the end. One of my babies was still going to die, and the other had a 50/50 chance.I bonded with the nurses who checked my vitals and those of the babies every three hours, but it was a bond of desperation. Please, tell me why this is happening to me. Please validate these feelings of anger and sickness and even betrayal.
I prayed, a lot. But not for God’s will, as we are supposed to, but for a miracle. Or for it all to just be over. I simply could not take it anymore. I prayed out of desperation and tried to muster hope. But hope alluded me most of the time.Why me? Why do I have to lay in this bed all day with nothing to think about except my babies suffering, dying inside me.
I yelled and cried to my mom. I screamed, literally, about how much this sucked. I fell apart when my husband came to visit..sure that our lives would be ruined. We would never recover from this. I experienced my first true panic attacks.
See, most everything in life had come pretty easily to me. I never anticipated that the most important thing ever would be so marred by tragedy and fear.
When the twins were born, I looked at their tiny sick bodies, covered in monitors, overrun with tubes, ventilators hissing next to them. Oh God..why me, why them?? They were so tiny they couldn’t be held. We could cradle the top of their heads and the bottom of their feet with our hands, and that was all because their underdeveloped nervous systems couldn’t cope with more stimulation. We stood over their fragile doll like bodies and cupped our hands around them for hours. Helpless…
The first night the neonatologist visited us on my room to let me know there wasn’t much more that could be done..they were maxxed out on ventilator settings and blood pressure medications and antibiotics.
Baby A, who had been given a chance by the doctors while in utero, began to rally the next day. It would be a long journey, but there was hope for the first time in months.
But as I stood over B, I was still screaming inside. Why me? Why him. He is so innocent. I cried and cried while he silently cried. The ventilator separated his vocal cords, so even though he cried so hard he shook, no one could hear him.
They both pulled through..came off the ventilators and grew stronger. It was amazing to watch and miraculous to witness. It was still wrenching and awful at times, but my attitude was changing. I was still asking ” Why me?” all the time..but in a different way.
“Why me, why are my babies beating all the odds?”
While other mommys were holding their babies in the NICU for the last time, why did I get to feed mine, bath mine and cuddle for 45 minutes before returning them to their incubators. What did I do to deserve this?
While other mommys and daddys wondered if they would ever take their babies home, why did we get to anticipate bringing ours home after 7 weeks and 8 weeks in the NICU?
Why me? Why us? What did we do to deserve this?
I was not looking a gift horse in the mouth, I was simply in awe that I could go from despair and anger to gratitude and joy in a matter of days.
Why me, God? Why was I chosen to have a miracle play out in my life. Why am I worthy? And how do I live up to being a mommy to these awesome little guys?
So when terrible things happen, it is human nature to wonder “why me?” Is it capricious and random? Is it Karma? Does bad stuff just happen to good people?Why?
But look at the good, too, and wonder “why me?” Why is this joy, happiness, blessing, awesomeness happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? And if you can figure out what you did to deserve it, keep doing it. If you can’t, then just be grateful that you are asking the right question.”