When I first held Mya on her fifth day of life she weighed 1 pound, 14 ounces. I could see a collective inch of skin on her tiny face and the rest was covered by tape and tubes. Her head fit in my palm and her feet stretched only halfway to my elbow.
We had Little Missy at the hospital this week for her orthopedic consultation...more on that later...and it got me to thinking about the NICU. It is a wonderfully horrible place to know. It is a place where lives are saved and lost every day and nurses sometimes sprint when alarms sound. It is the place that kept my precious babies alive and for that I will always be grateful, but I can still smell it. I cannot wash my hands at Children's Hospital without thinking about our 9 week stay. Some day I hope they change their soap. I wonder if they would honor that request.
My prayer for every one of my friends is that you never know that smell. That you hold your babies on the day they are born and never have to sleep across town. I pray your pregnancies are boring and your deliveries uneventful. My prayer for you is that you never hold a 1 pound, anything ounce baby in your arms.
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| Miss Mya working on her tan |
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| Ehh? |
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| Ella Grace. My favorite NICU picture. Look at those eyes! |
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