Today we found out that two families that were in the NICU with us had to say goodbye to their boys. They were in a different wing of the NICU than we were, but when you are there for so long, you get to see familiar faces, and both families were always so kind and friendly to us. They always asked how Gabriella was doing and were so happy for us when we were getting discharged- even though it is so hard to see babies going home healthy and happy before yours. The news hit us hard- you hang onto hope in the NICU and block out the fact that it is an intensive care unit. You survive the long days by reading the happy going-home stories of families before you. Even on Gabriella's worst days, I would always tell myself, She's going to be fine. You forget that sometimes, there isn't a happy going-home story. I spent most of today thinking about how grateful I am, and about the staff that treat, care for, and love these babies like their own.
I was complaining last night about Gabriella being cranky, not wanting to nap, forgetting that a year ago I would have given anything, everything, to have a baby, even a cranky one. 6 months ago when she was born way too early, I was madly jealous of friends home with their crying babies, wishing that ours was home with us. A couple of months into our NICU stay, we met with a developmentalist, because we were concerned that Gabriella wasn't making a noise, not crying out at all. And now, here we are, with a healthy and loud-as-hell baby with wrist rolls, chubby thighs, and big, pink cheeks. And today we hug her a little tighter, kiss her a little more, and thank God with everything we have for giving us the best gift.
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