I’m sitting here alone on the couch, 2 1/2 days away from having my last baby. My thoughts drift off to my last pregnancy, the birth, the first time I saw my child. The first time I held him…
He was in the NICU. I couldn’t see him for 24 hours after birth because I couldn’t get out of bed due to issues from the delivery. When I was finally able to be taken to see him in a wheelchair, I couldn’t hold him because he was still on oxygen in his isolette. That was one of the most difficult times.
When I was finally able to hold him, I remember that he was laying in his isolette, crying, hooked up to lots of tubes and wires. The Instant I took him into my arms and held his tiny 5 pound body against my chest, he calmed and went to sleep. It was incredible. That was all I needed to go from nervous and insecure about taking care of this tiny, fragile being to being confident in my abilities to care for him. The love was indescribable.
Though I hope for a completely different experience in 2 1/2 days as far as the circumstances of birth with this baby, I look forward to experiencing that pure joy, love and the tender, sweet moments that new life brings.