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.
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
May 2006, strolling along the sun-kissed shores of the Indian Ocean, having spent 16 glorious days on the beautiful island of Mauritius, I turned to my partner, John. No longer could I keep the secret that I had been saving for the “right moment” and announced that we had a much longed for baby on the way. This news was the icing on the cake for what had been a wonderful year for us as a couple and now we had a bright future to look forward to with a child of our own. We returned to Ireland filled with excitement and looking forward to the pregnancy and our new roles as parents. For the next nine weeks my pregnancy was a mixture of day long “morning sickness” followed by periods of extreme fatigue, but nothing could dampen the joy and love that we felt for our growing infant. Continue reading
It was New Years Eve, 1997 and life was good. Our home in Palo Alto was filled with people we loved; candles flickered, a fire crackled, and I played DJ, blaring everything from Earth Wind and Fire to Dave Matthews. The small crystals attached to my sweater rubbed against my pregnant belly as my husband twirled me around the makeshift dance floor in our small living room. My due date was April 15th. Continue reading
As the NFI (NIDCAP Federation International) launches its first blog, it seems appropriate to share how the seeds of NIDCAP (Newborn Individualized Developmental Care and Assessment Program) germinated. The purpose of the NFI’s blog is to build awareness for our organization and its visionary and dedicated members, who, quite literally, change lives. This and future posts by NIDCAP Researchers, Trainers, NIDCAP Professionals, parents of preterm infants, members of our Board of Directors, and special guest bloggers will provide an opportunity to convey the NFI’s perspective and to receive your comments and questions. Continue reading