What a beautiful thing to hold loves itself in your arms

It’s been awhile since my last blog and I apologize for that, as you know I had a precious baby boy nine weeks premature, I was warned the first three months of motherhood would be a blur, having reached that milestone I assure you it’s true and only this week have I finally come up for air.

So I guess a recap is needed; my son went to the neonatal unit and within six hours he had pulled out his ventilator and was breathing without issue, he did have a few episodes of SVT even while cuddled in my arms, it was terrifying, the monitors whaled their alarms as I sat helplessly watching his heart rate gain speed, the nurses fetched him from me and began their maneuvers, cardiology came running and everyone hovered around, tears streamed down my cheeks and once again I found comfort in my mantra. Our instincts to protect our children are inherent and we do this as best we can but this situation taught me quickly I wasn’t in control, it forced me to let go if just slightly and trust God’s plan, my son was born of me, I am gifted with the experience of mothering him but ultimately he is a child of God and his karma is his alone to work through.

The great news is within a week he was on the right dose of medication and we’ve been episode free ever since. Doctors assure me by six months of age he will simply outgrow his meds and the chances of a reoccurrence is rare.

Three days after giving birth I was released from the hospital but my son was kept behind. It was horrible, I begged the social worker for a parent room but with only eight rooms and forty sites in NICU they reserved the rooms for those who were in transition getting ready to head home or on a sadder note those undergoing palliative care, so I arrived at the hospital each morning and spent my days sitting in a chair snuggled in the recommended skin to skin (which ironically had been brought to the hospital after a team spent time on a research project in India). As I held my baby I fell deeper in love with each moment, weighing in at only 3.1lbs the warmth of my body helped him grow, I did reiki and tried to not concentrate on the monitors instead told him stories about the spiritual adventures we would embark on, I sang lullabies, read stories and dozed throughout the day with him on my chest.

He spent one week in the "intensive" unit, I arrived one morning to find his site cleared, panic hit my stomach when a nurse came towards me "great news, he’s been moved to "intermediate!" He spent another short week there, his IV came out and with that we transferred to the "transitional" unit. He came out of his incubator and was being kept now simply as a "feeder and grower" (which meant learning to breastfeed and putting on the weight needed before he could be released.) By week’s end a nurse fought to get me a parent room, he was ready to go to breast and we felt if I was there for all feeds it would take no time at all, I got to move into the hospital and within days my little guy was actively breast feeding, his feeding tube came out by the end of the week and we got to enjoy the next couple of weeks fattening him up.

Being with the NICU team for so long was a gift, their expertise and guidance helped me build my confidence as a new mother, I owe them a debt of gratitude. We were released just before my partner arrived from India after battling the Canadian Embassy for an entry visa. He was finally able to wrap his arms around his baby boy; it was a magical moment as we all let out an exhale, united as a family. We’ve been enjoying life adapting to our new roles sleeping, eating and changing poopy diapers and now just as our routine is somewhat established we are preparing for our return to India. It will be interesting to learn parenting skills from a set of women in a culture that is opposite of the one I’ve grown accustomed to, I’ll share my insights…



Thank you for your continued support