Update 6 in The REAL Baby Journey!

I’ve always been an outspoken advocate of nurses. I’ve always, even long before I became one myself, vocally spoke up about the priceless and under-appreciated value of a bedside presence that guided, calmed, empowered and heard the patients they cared for. Now that I am a patient, in a high risk high stress highly emotional time in my life, I couldn’t be more impressed with the nurses I’ve had.

One after another they’ve come in my room, calmly talked to me about how I’m feeling, sat down on my bed or in a chair, held my hand, rubbed my legs, got me talking about how I’m really feeling until I get choked up and I cry and I get that ‘super strong, holding up great’ guard down and they let me sob. They’re never rushed, they never have anywhere else they need to be, they don’t ever make me feel like a hinderance or a burden or like anything other than an important and worthwhile use of their time. They rub my back and they say “This is scary. This is worth crying about. This is your baby in there and it is a big deal. Don’t apologize. Don’t feel bad. Fight for that baby. Advocate. You know what is best. Keep speaking up.”

And so I keep speaking up and I keep finding the nerve to call out doctors on too strict of interventions or on treating me like ‘anyone else’ or not letting my body even try to do what it is born to do. By and large the doctors here are great too, very little of my energy has been spent being worried or anxious about them or the care they’re giving me or my baby, but knowing I have this whole crowd of educated, multi-decade experienced, and outspoken group of women behind me has made this entire ordeal so much more doable.

I didn’t choose to have a body that wasn’t made ‘quite right’. I didn’t choose to have a baby 6 weeks early. I didn’t choose to need bed rest or IV antibiotics or steroid injections but these things happened. It’s has helped me immensely in accepting them when I get to cry about how I feel shorted, how I feel like something has been stolen from me, how I feel like this wasn’t in my plan and that someone validates that it is all worth being upset over. Once I get the anger and the tears out, I feel such a cathartic rush of relief. I simply need to be heard and the nurses here have been spectacular.

I’ve also had such an outpouring of support from you guys, from my incredible parents, even from my barely-delivered-herself sister…the few friends who know have reached out to me with flowers and cookies and homemade snacks and magazines shipped in and simply coming by and spending a few minutes talking with me and keeping me company. One friend brought the entire Sex and the City series for me to watch and another brought a big puzzle book to keep my brain entertained without needing a screen. The thoughtfulness and kindness all around me is such a recharger for my soul.

I sent Rob home to sleep tonight because things have been calm and stable. He needs his own time too and is planning to go into work tomorrow and knock out a few projects before spending the next as-many-as-needed days with me and the baby and the NICU. The dog is at my parent’s house being cared for while Rob and I basically live here so on his one night home, he’s home alone.

Right as I’m getting ready to fall asleep after a trying yet successful day, this text message from Rob pops up. And in the midst of one of the most stressful and nerve wracking and uncertain times in my life, when so much feels on edge and unpredictable, he is the most certain, most true, most steady thing in my life. He is my rock.

I’m heading to bed. I hope you can get some sleep tonight. I miss you and puppy and baby in this lonely bed. Sweet dreams. I love you. I am so proud of you. You are the mommy to my baby and I couldn’t have picked a better one.

And that sound you hear? That’s my heart sploshing and bursting with love for that sweet, sweet man.

Last updated November 06, 2014