I hated every second of the struggle for my two NICU babies just to breathe. I felt horrible guilt for “failing” them and delivering them too soon. I felt empty when I could not have them “room in” while I recovered from my csections. I hated leaving them at the hospital, day after day and not having them home with me, where they belonged – healthy and whole. My oldest daughter has scars all over her heals from the countless heel sticks she had. She has a scar on her chest from where they needled her for the pneumothorax. Her hair covers the scar from her arterial line – but the iv scars are still visible and this is 12 years later! If there was anything I could have done to keep them in longer, I would have done it – gladly, willingly! My daughter and son were born at 33 and 36 weeks respectively. Daughter spent 3 weeks and son only 1 week – it was still awful and stressful! Even though developmentally they have both been on target since before their first birthdays – it was a very big deal. The first couple years were tough – healthwise. It has gotten better. The only thing that made having them that early was the fact that it was how they survived pregnancy.

Costwise – it was a huge deal. Physically and mentally – an even bigger deal. I am very grateful that hospitals are equipped to deal with premature infants – but that doesn’t mean I would ever want to take advantage of those services.

Yeesh.