Tag Archives: NIDCAP

What NIDCAP meant to my NICU experience…


Latoshia Rouse

Just 7 days earlier, I had an OBGYN visit. After a great visit, I asked other moms of multiples if they thought I would make it to 36 weeks. My doc seemed very confident that I would, but I wanted to talk to moms who had accomplished it. We laughed and giggled at the possibility of me breaking the record for triplet birth weights. Everything was going great! This day I was super tired. I was beginning to struggle with standing for short periods of time. I was seeing the toll this pregnancy was having on my body. I decided to lay down and rest, but I needed to go to the bathroom first. Once I got in there, I realized my water had broken. Within an hour I was in the emergency room. I still was not sure what all this meant, but I knew I was not going back home until I had them. I had a 3 year old at home and I was not able to be with him. I was so torn. Everything was messed up. My body was failing the babies I was carrying and I was not able to parent the baby that was here. This was a Tuesday and after the steroids/ magnesium, I delivered my babies on Friday morning. They were 26 weeks 6 days. 2lbs 10oz, 2lbs 8oz, and 2lbs 3oz of perfection. It was a whirlwind. I had 4 kids. From 1 kid to 4 kids in about 29 mins.

Latoshia, first time holding all three babies

After they were born, my kiddos went to the NICU. I didn’t get to see them at all. I was so anxious to see their faces. I felt like them being with me was a way I could help keep them calm. It was just a feeling. Later I would find out that my hunch was right. Meanwhile, my husband brought me pictures. We named them for the NICU staff and I was able to touch them gently. I was so proud of them. They were handling it. All the world was crashing down on them and they were still here. After some struggles in the beginning, I was starting to settle into the NICU life. I was taught about liquid gold and how breast milk was life saving. I was taught about how my touch would stabilize their breathing and heartrate. I was taught about brain development and how being there as much as possible to kangaroo would help develop their brains. All of a sudden, I was back. I was important in the life of my children. I could make a difference and I could parent them in the NICU. They were mine again.

Mommy Latoshia holds Ava and Layla

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Dad, William, holds Landon

I started to pay attention and learn each one to become the best expert I could be on them. What else do you do when the kid doesn’t talk back? You study them. You want to make sure your baby has the best premature experience they can have and you want to make it easy for them. After a few weeks of studying them, I showed up and there was a report taped on their isolette. It had NIDCAP and a rainbow line under it. I knew my hospital was a level IV, but I didn’t understand NIDCAP at the time. I started reading the report and it was spot on. The person who wrote this knew my babies. The report talked about what the baby liked and disliked. It made my babies individuals. It made the nurses aware that this child was different. This child has needs and was talking to them the best way he or she knew how.


Ava, Landon and Layla, 5 years old

Layla, Latoshia, Brandon, Ava, William, and Landon

I later met with a soft-spoken gentle-natured doctor, actually the Infant & Family Specialist, and he was not like others I’d met. He was the person who wrote the report and he handled me with kid gloves. He spent time with me and explained the report. He answered my questions and gave me reassurance that what I was doing was great. It was the things that made me feel like my kids were getting the best possible care. They were there to care for my babies emotionally and not just physically. They were there to mitigate and that is exactly what I wanted. We could not turn back the hands of time, but we could mitigate the effects of prematurity for my kids. And that is the very best next thing. I’m forever grateful that my babies were born in a NIDCAP hospital. I credit that good fortune with the fact that all of my children are happy, healthy, and completely normal 5 years later.

-Latoshia Rouse
NICU Family Advisor and Coach





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When Life Gives you Lemons: A Personal Story from Bulgaria about Pregnancy, Birth, Loss & Family, Part 2

Nina Nikolova head shot 2

Nina Nikolova

In 2008, following the deaths of my children, I went home from the hospital feeling empty and broken-hearted. I simply wanted to close my eyes and die. I physically appeared to look pregnant and friends continued to enquire after the well being of my babies. I did not have the mental strength to deal with the reality of the situation and my husband was left to field the well-meant enquiries.

A number of months later we decided that we were strong enough to try for another pregnancy. The desire to have a family was so strong yet despite not being emotionally ready, we found the strength to embark on another pregnancy journey. Unfortunately the ICSI attempt failed and we had to face the stark reality of waiting for 12 months before we could try again (in Bulgaria families must wait 12 months between fertilization attempts).

Returning to work proved more difficult than I anticipated. While my friends and colleagues so dearly wanted to support and help me, they didn’t know how to speak with me, what questions to ask, or what I needed to help me in my grief.

It took the best part of a year to return to my former self, but I yearned to have children and life was incomplete without a family. I longed to feel happiness again and I longed to have children in my life… and so we embarked on our 4th ICSI fertilization attempt.

On one of our national Christian holidays, Blagoveshtenie, when we deliver good news to people, we discovered that our ICSI attempt had been successful. We were overcome with joy to discover that we had four fertilized eggs. Given the difficulties that we encountered with our first pregnancy, where we first implanted three embryos but took the decision to remove one to provide the remaining two a better chance of surviving, we decided to proceed with a twin pregnancy on this occasion.

I was confined to home during the pregnancy and was closely monitored by my medical team. I was required to take medication and inject daily in order to keep the pregnancy healthy. Instead of feeling the joy of carrying my babies in my womb, my days were spent crossing off days on a calendar, counting days, and praying so hard that my babies would stay safe.

During the third month I began to bleed very heavily and was hospitalized for one month, but no underlying cause was found for the bleeding. I opted to obtain the opinion of another doctor where it was discovered that I was carrying a third embryo that had died inside of my womb. The existence of this embryo was placing the well-being of my babies at risk, and the threat of infection that may lead to preterm labor was becoming a greater threat.

At six months my blood pressure began to become a concern to my medical team and I was referred to a cardiologist for treatment.

On a beautiful sunny September 9th, I visited my gynecologist for a routine checkup and was assured that the pregnancy was healthy. However less than 24 hours later at week 29 of my pregnancy, my waters broke and I knew that I would soon meet my babies. Strangely, I didn’t have any fear on this occasion; something I cannot explain. Perhaps given the pain that we had suffered in the past, I felt that my angel babies would keep us all safe.

Given the high risk nature of the pregnancy and ever rising blood pressure, the decision to deliver my babies by Caesarean Section was made by my medical team.  A little part of me still felt this overwhelming fear at what could happen and tears flowed inside for the babies I had lost. We had been on this road before and I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to come home childless again.

Baby Martin was born at 11 a.m. on September 11th weighing 1170 grams followed two minutes later by his sister Joana who weighed 930 grams. After a quick introduction to my babies they were taken away from me to be cared for by medical professionals. However in comparison to our previous experience, I felt different on this occasion; somehow I knew that the outcome would be favorable and sure enough, the experience couldn’t have been more different. I was encouraged to express milk (but there wasn’t a specific room for me to do so), I was permitted to remain in the hospital for a longer period of time in order to be with my babies, and when they were strong enough I was actively encouraged to breastfeed.


Joana soothes herself on brother Martin’s hand

Typically in Bulgaria, families are allowed to visit the babies in the NICU only few times a week, depends on the hospital. Since the hospital was a private hospital, I was allowed daily access for one hour. Martin made good progress during his three month period in the NICU, but Joana struggled.  Four weeks after the birth, Joana’s doctor summoned us to a private meeting. With my only experience of such meetings ending in catastrophic news, I was understandably terrified. As Joana continued to struggle to progress from requiring CPAP and Oxygen support to breathe, I had convinced myself that the news about Joana would replicate that of our poor Alexandra. When the doctor disclosed that Joana had a fracture of her femur, I broke into laughter to a somewhat bemused physician. He would never understand the absolute relief that I felt that the news was not pertaining to Joana’s lung health. It was also discovered that Joana had only one kidney (not related to her prematurity). Shortly afterwards the doctors diagnosed Joana with rickets and she required Vitamin D injections intra-muscularly. As Vitamin D was not available in Bulgaria we had to order the medication from France and have it shipped to Bulgaria.

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Joana and Martin enjoy their grandfather’s Birthday celebration

It would be two months before I could hold Martin and 72 days before I could hold Joana. My babies were cared for in a very bright environment devoid of any signs of developmental care, a topic that I would only learn about many years after their birth. Kangaroo Mother Care wasn’t allowed in our unit because the doctors don’t want to accept it yet.

On the 30th of November Martin was discharged from the NICU, and Joana followed four days later. After the initial euphoria of both babies surviving their premature birth, the shock of having them home, without the support of the medical team overwhelmed us. There is no long-term follow up support in Bulgaria following discharge and after one home visit from our general practitioner, we were left to our own devices to care for our infants alone. We also were financially burdened after discharge and required to pay €4000 to the hospital to cover some of the cost of their care in the NICU.

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Nina with Joana and Martin at 6 years old

Struggling to come to terms with the way our health system cares for premature babies and their families, I, along with two parents whom I met while in the NICU, Nadya and Violeta, decided to create a foundation that would advocate for improved care and outcomes in our country. Our Premature Babies was founded in March 2012 and we are now the largest organization in Bulgaria to represent the needs of families of preterm infants. Through our international networks we have identified the short comings in our health systems, the greatest one is the lack of family centered care. We work closely with international organizations, such as the NIDCAP Federation International, in our efforts to introduce scientifically proven methods of care to the Bulgarian neonatal care system and we continue to be the voice of the newborns.

- Nina Nikolova
Chairwoman and Co-Founder of Our Premature Children Foundation, Bulgaria
Member, Parent Advisory Council, NIDCAP Federation International, Inc.
Sales Manager, Bulgarian Land Development

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The Journey Never Ends: A Time to Reflect

Melissa Johnson photo

Melissa Johnson, PhD

This month marks a major transition in my life. I am retiring from WakeMed, where for 30 years I have served as the Pediatric Psychologist in the NICU, in our Special Infant Care Clinic for children 0-3, and in the pediatric inpatient service. I am also a Senior NIDCAP Trainer and now certified as a NIDCAP Nursery Assessment and Certification Program (NNACP) Site Reviewer. Transitions are especially good times for reflection, and I appreciate the opportunity to share some thoughts with the NFI community and beyond. Here are some of the things that come to mind when I look back on 30 years spent working in one of the NICUs that undertook the transition to NIDCAP-based care relatively early in the process…

Every NICU experiences the transition from “the way we’ve always done it” to developmentally supportive and family centered care differently. Shortly after I arrived at WakeMed, to join colleagues Jim Helm and Ann Marie Elmore on the developmental team, our nursery embarked on this journey. We were fortunate to have visionary leaders at the nursing and neonatal levels, as well as dedicated bedside nurses and other nursery staff. One of the things I learned over the years is that this kind of collaboration is not just helpful – it is essential. Everything that the developmental team accomplished was made possible by this teamwork. As I talk with my neonatologist and nurse friends about the years we have spent together, it is clear that those who were there from the beginning remember the transition as an exciting though daunting time; younger colleagues appreciate that they had the privilege of beginning their careers caring for babies and families in a way that was both scientifically supported and just felt right.

The process of providing NIDCAP care and of training in the NIDCAP model has evolved significantly in ways that make it even more powerful and rewarding. Over the years, we have been increasingly intentional and effective in incorporating our deepening understanding of how to keep the entire family at the center of our thinking and our care. When we began to use the practicum experience (following one baby and family throughout their NICU experience with both regular observations and frequent family meetings) as part of the process of achieving NIDCAP certification, virtually without exception we saw trainees who were already wonderful family support professionals become even more sensitive and aware of family needs and strengths. One of the strengths of NIDCAP itself is that it has continued to grow and develop based on both research findings and real life experience.

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James Helm, PhD, Director, Carolina NIDCAP Training Center and Melissa Johnson, PhD, NIDCAP Trainer, accept the NFI’s NIDCAP Nursery Certification Award from Heidelise Als, PhD, Founder of the NFI

An example of how the NIDCAP model has continued to grow is evident in, the NIDCAP Nursery Certification process, which has evolved to be an effective and rewarding way to help nurseries achieve high levels of excellence, and to recognize this excellence in a meaningful way. While the progress that the NNACP program has made in the last several years is incredible, it is based on years of painstaking preparatory work, led by Karen Smith, Deborah Buehler, Rodd Hedlund and of course Dr. Heidelise Als, and involving many other members of the NFI. This too is an example of the importance of teamwork and collaboration, and of valuing the process of transition and improvement. Our own NICU’s participation in this process as a “pilot” NICU taught us that the process itself was immensely valuable in supporting our efforts to improve our care, with the eventual achievement of NIDCAP Nursery Certification serving as acknowledgement to the staff of their hard work, but also an inspiration to continue their dedication to this approach.

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Melissa with granddaughter, Stella

On a personal note, I began my work at WakeMed as the mother of a four year old and a three year old. My older child spent three weeks in a NICU where the intelligent and caring staff did not yet have the benefit of the work of Dr. Als and her colleagues; my first view of my child after delivery was of a baby on her back on a flat board, wrists and ankles tied down, scrunching her tiny face against the bright overhead lights. Happily, resiliency overcame risk and many positive factors united to make her future bright. But the lessons I learned at her bedside were joined with the wisdom provided by several thousand families in the last three decades- among these lessons, that there are many ways of being a good parent, and that the explicit and implicit messages provided by hospital staff may be critical in shaping each parent’s confidence and sense of readiness to take that tiny person home.

Melissa granddaughter

Melissa and Stella

Each of us who has been fortunate enough to be part of the NIDCAP work will find that its influence is life-long. It will continue to inform my continued role as a site reviewer, and new roles as a volunteer child advocate and proud and delighted grandmother!

– Melissa Johnson, PhD
Pediatric Psychologist, North Carolina, USA
NNACP Site Reviewer
NIDCAP Federational International, Inc.



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When Life Gives you Lemons: A Personal Story from Bulgaria about Pregnancy, Birth, Loss & Family, Part 1

Nina Nikolova head shot 2

Nina Nikolova

It was the summer of 2008 and I spent the most wonderful vacation carrying my twin baby girls. At our 21 week antenatal check-up upon our return to Sofia the doctor flagged a “small” problem: one of the babies didn’t appear to have enough amniotic fluid and the doctor recommended frequent checkups and bedrest.

Nina pregnant with her twin girls

At week 22, I experienced some minor bleeding and went to the emergency room of the hospital. I spent two very difficult weeks on total bedrest in the hospital; resting alone in bed and praying. I had some visitors, but the only thing that was important to me was to hold my babies inside of me as long as possible.

Everything changed one day at 4pm, when I experienced a terrible internal pain and my waters broke. Instinctively I knew it, it was the beginning of the end. My husband spent the night on the floor next to my bed trying to sleep and trying to comfort me.  Intermittently he would leave my bedside and go for a walk. I often wondered why he left me, but a year later he confessed he simply had to be alone to deal with the pain of the situation and his fear that he could lose our children and me, and he didn’t want me to see his tears and heartache.  Premature birth affects not only the mother, but has a ripple effect on the entire family network, in particular those close to us. We have to remember that we are not alone in that journey and that the person next to us is there to support us.

After 22 hours of huge and unbearable pain, I delivered my baby girls at 24 weeks of pregnancy, naturally. Every step of the labor is etched in my memory: the pain, the anger, the unbearable fear of the unknown and the feeling of powerlessness.  Immediately after the delivery my two beautiful little girls were taken away from me. I didn’t have an opportunity to see them, touch their fragile bodies, tell them I loved them (and was so dreadfully sorry). It would be several hours before anyone would tell me how they were. I just lay there in my limbo state wondering if my babies had even survived.

I was transferred to my room and after I woke up, the only thing I wanted to do was go home, to start my life from the very beginning and to forget what had just happened to me and to my family. Suddenly my whole world change completely. The doctor came to my bedside and asked if I was ready to meet my babies. I was utterly shocked to discover that they had survived.

Our 5 month NICU journey unfolded… I approached the incubator with trepidation to meet my beautiful baby girls… They were so small, tiny, beautiful, and perfect. Unfortunately my second daughter passed away after two days without us having the opportunity to touch, hold, hug or kiss her.  Bulgarian law decrees than an infant that is born below 1000 grams and does not survive for 7 days is not entitled to receive a name so our beautiful little girl who had lived inside of me for 24 weeks and had blessed our lives for 2 short days was taken away from us by the hospital and burnt along with the hospital garbage.  Words cannot describe the pain of losing a child and having to be strong for the surviving twin. My heart was broken for my loss, but I cried my tears at home before putting on my strong supportive face for our daughter.

I waited with bated breath for day 7 to arrive so we could finally name our daughter Alexandra. I was lucky to deliver my babies in one of the most modern hospitals in Bulgaria, so we were permitted to visit Alexandra every day. Our visitation was limited to one hour and only one visitor was permitted at a time.  After the birth of our girls I was given pills by the doctors to stop my milk and it was so distressing to see the other mothers in the unit breastfeeding when I had been denied the option.

I found myself immersed in a world that I knew nothing about; I had never heard the word premature birth let alone know anything about the risks and consequences.

The NICU is a strange place; noisy, full of fear, lined with incubators, strange machines and equipment, babies with tubes and lines coming from every inch of their little bodies and staff that scared you. It was extremely difficult to obtain reliable information about preterm birth, but I did manage to find an online site and started to inform myself.


Alexandra held by her father

Alexandra’s respiratory status continued to worry her doctors and after many investigations on her lungs it was discovered that she was suffering from Bronchopulmonary dysplasia.  Her lungs were not developing and despite the initial elation that the lungs would recover the outlook soon turned bleak – she would require oxygen to stay alive. We were summoned to the head doctor’s office to be told that the doctors had done all they could for Alexandra and they could do no more for her.

We set about contacting hospitals in Germany, Canada, Israel and Australia in the hope that someone might be able to offer Alexandra some hope. However all the replies reflected what the Bulgarian doctors had told us until we received some hope from a hospital in Israel. Following a conference call and a transfer of 70,000 USD (an enormous amount of money for us given the average monthly Bulgarian salary in 2008 was €300), we prepared to transfer Alexandra to Israel for treatment.

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Alexandra at four months old

Unfortunately, there was no dedicated neonatal transport service available in Bulgaria to transfer Alexandra, so we had to privately fund the transfer ourselves (€20000). Transporting an intubated infant is difficult even with the best of medical support and we were faced with the prospect of having to source a transport incubator ourselves.  Making that journey to the airport with just Alexandra, the doctor, and the driver was a terrifying experience. My mind was in turmoil, my heart was breaking with the pain and fear that we might lose Alexandra and I had no-one to share my burden. Initially the doctor refused to transport Alexandra because she was intubated, so they tried for 30 minutes to extubate her and they hoped to keep her alive with an ambu bag for the flight, but regrettably it was not possible and on that freezing cold night in February the plane left without us. I was crying so hard the only thing that would have eased my pain was death. On Tuesday February 172008 Alexandra returned to the hospital a very, very unwell baby.

Fortunately the Israeli hospital refunded the money we had paid them, but we lost the 20,000 euro –none of that mattered.

On Friday, the 20th of February we were summoned to the hospital by Alexandra’s medical team; we knew the news wasn’t good and this was the beginning of the end for our little girl. The doctor felt that she only had a few hours of life left in her tiny body that had fought so hard these past few months. My husband fainted to the floor when he entered Alexandra’s room.  I entered and approached the incubator. She was staring at me, with an empty look, her breathing labored; saturation 80/40. I put my palm to the very cold incubator, I didn’t want to cry, I was to be strong for her, for my little hero. I told her that she can go.  I left the room, I left her and I left the hospital.

At 5 pm we received the phone call that no parent ever wants to receive…Alexandra had passed away…a part of me died that day. The only clothes I had been brave enough to purchase for her, which were intended to be her discharge home clothes, ended up being her burial garments.

We cremated her and put her ashes in a tomb next to her grandfather. She will always be my little fighter, my angel, and my little daughter.

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Alexandra listens to her mother singing

I had the best time with her for 5 months, singing to her, hugging her and loving her with all my heart.

Alexandra smiles at her parents

It is not easy to lose a child, but we have to be strong and happy to have the little time together. She made me believe that everything is possible, that everybody has his own way and time to Earth and we have to spent this time as much as we can and remember the good things and the happy moments.

NIDCAP did not exist in Bulgaria in 2008 and it still doesn’t today in 2016. I am just setting out on my journey to learn more about the NIDCAP care philosophy and am hopeful to one day ensure that all the babies cared for in our nurseries get this gold standard of care.



– Nina Nikolova
Chairwoman and Co-Founder of Our Premature Children Foundation, Bulgaria
Member, Parent Advisory Council, NIDCAP Federation International, Inc.
Sales Manager, Bulgarian Land Development

Note: In Part 2, Nina Nikolova will share stories of the birth of her now five year old twins (born at 29 weeks gestational age), and how the “Our Premature Children Foundation” began, as well as how she became involved in the NFI’s Parent Advisory Council.

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Individualized Developmental Care to Improve the Lives of Children with Congenital Heart Disease

Samantha Butler, PhD

As members of the Newborn Individualized Developmental Care Program (NIDCAP) family know all too well, preterm birth is a global challenge with developmental and physical challenges and disabilities which can not be completely explained by medical complications alone. The overexposure to unexpected noxious sensory stimuli and diminished positive experiences in the hospital contribute to the developmental picture for a child born early. NIDCAP, through minimization of the mismatch between the immature brain’s expectations and experiences of stress and pain in the hospital environment, has proven repeatedly to improve outcomes for children born preterm. Despite the research and publications on the positive outcomes for NIDCAP and the increasing availability of NIDCAP training, it is not consistently practiced in every intensive care unit (ICU) caring for fragile infants, though an increasing number of newborn ICUs (NICU) understand the importance of individualized developmental care and provide at least partial support in selected aspect of the NIDCAP model. Continue reading

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An Irish Mother’s Journey: Preterm Birth and Beyond, Part 3

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Mandy Daly, Dip. H Diet & Nutrition, Dip. Ki Massage, ACII, DLDU

Leaving the secure if somewhat claustrophobic bubble of the NICU after three months was tinged with many conflicting emotions. We so desperately wanted to be a “normal” family, yet in our hearts we dreaded the day that the enormous responsibility of caring for our daughter would be placed on our shoulders alone. Our parenting journey to date had been filled with medical emergencies, medical interventions, enough medical personal to fill a football team and very little family time to enable us get to know Amelia.

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On Becoming a Caregiver: Part I

“No society can long sustain itself unless its members have learned the sensitivities, motivations and skills involved in assisting and caring for other human beings.”      -Urie Bronfenbrenner

The process of becoming a caregiver has always intrigued me, ever since I decided, many years ago, to become an early childhood special educator. As part of this process I volunteered at schools, institutions, and sheltered workshops that provided services to both children and adults with physical and learning disabilities. I was struck by the comments from family, relatives, friends and even individuals, newly introduced to me, when they discovered that I was interested in becoming a special educator. They often praised me for my interest in caring for these children and adults. This praise was usually followed by “I could never do that, it would just be too difficult for me;” or “It takes a ‘special’ kind of person to do that kind of work.”

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An Irish Mother’s Journey: Preterm Birth and Beyond, Part 2

Mandy Head Shot cropped reduced res

Mandy Daly, Dip. H Diet & Nutrition, Dip. Ki Massage, ACII, DLDU

My perceptions of motherhood prior to the birth of Amelia were filled with moments of touching, loving, holding, breathing in her smell, caressing and caring, however, the reality that I was faced with was so very different. For three months I traveled 90 minutes each way to spend 12 to 14 hours sitting at my daughter’s incubator. There was very little touching or caressing her tiny frame. The only smells detectable were the smells of the hand sanitizers, the hand wash soaps and the unit’s cleaning products. I didn’t get to hold Amelia until she was four weeks old even though my baby girl lay inches away from my tear stained face. I reached out to her in my head and heart and I’m certain that you could hear my heart beating in my chest every time her monitor alarms triggered.

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Shedding Light on the Newborn Intensive Care Nursery

Kathy V photo[1]

Kathleen A. VandenBerg, PhD, NIDCAP Master Trainer

Parents often experience shock when their baby is born too early. As they enter the intensive care nursery for the first time, they may note that the environment is not at all what they expected. Instead, they may experience the overwhelming barrage of stimulation that is the newborn intensive care nursery or NICU. Having walked this path with hundreds of parents, I see that they immediately notice the loud ringing sounds that fill the unit: blaring monitors; the constant hum of respirators attached to some of the babies; and most especially the glare of bright lights used for medical procedures.

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NICU Parent Involvement is Crucial to Outcomes

Deb Discenza, mother of a premature infant and Head of PreemieWorld

It was September 7, 2003 and I had been on bed rest for a little over a day. The day before I had been in a car coming back from an extended family outing when I felt my bladder let go in the front seat. Embarrassed, I said nothing, but quietly asked my husband, Gregg, to get to the nearest bathroom. All alone in a grocery store bathroom, I discovered that my water had broken. With tears streaming down my face, I apologized to my daughter in quiet hysterics and then frantically called family members in the car only to get voicemail after voicemail message. So I cleaned up as best I could and headed to the front of the store, stopping in at the office and in a surreally calm voice relayed and asked, “I believe I am in preterm labor. Where is the nearest hospital? May I borrow your phone to call my doctor?” Continue reading

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