Different hospitals have different specific policies. Our NICU was absolutely lovely, but it’s now a pretty old facility. Next year, they are due to open a large, lovely new one that is to have all kinds of fanciness. Like parents can stay overnight with their babies whenever they want levels of fancy. So bear that in mind when you read these.
On my first visit to the NICU, I could barely stand, much less walk. So that was fun.
Before the Baby was delivered, they had given my husband and me bracelets with her ID number and name on them. We were to wear them at all times and preferably not take them off until she came home. (As it turned out, 12 weeks was longer than the life span of the bracelet’s structural integrity, so we had to carry them with us.) This was the first layer of security.
We showed our bracelets to everyone, starting with the security guard at the entrance. Then we had to sign in at the log book. Then we scrubbed in. Wash hands and arms to the elbow with soap. The sink had a timer for rinsing. Pat dry with paper towels. Apply hand sanitizer to hands and arms.
Then we made our way to the Baby’s isolette. There, we spoke to her nurse and showed our bracelets again. Finally, we were face to face with our little one.
By the time I met the Baby, she was 28 weeks, 4 days gestational age. She was so tiny. She was born just over 2.5 pounds, but hadn’t started gaining weight yet. She was jaundiced, so she was under the billi lights. (Eventually they had to go all the way up to three lights.) Because of the constant light shining on her, she wore a mask over her eyes. Also because of the lights, she wasn’t swaddled, either.
It was the weirdest thing. I remember feeling so very out of it because of the pain killers. Exhausted. In pain. And here was this tiny, helpless creature who was just suddenly there. She had been in me; I’d felt her kicks. And then she wasn’t.
Many women bond with their babies from the moment they get a positive pregnancy test. After two prior losses, though, that was never me. I went to every ultrasound expecting bad news. Her kicks stressed me out because they triggered my sensory problems. And I realized that I found pregnancy utterly bizarre on a psychological level. The very notion of people growing inside people is just so weird.
To be honest, we really didn’t start the bonding process then. Maybe we would have if the drugs hadn’t effected me so strongly. Or if I’d been less exhausted. Or if she’d been full term. So I sat in my wheelchair and stared at this strange, but precious, little creature.
It would be two more days before I was finally able to hold her.
Adventures At Home 