My sweet baby boy,
You’ve been here almost three weeks now and the wildest part to me is that you’re not supposed to be. Right now, you would have been inside me for 29 weeks. You would have 11 more weeks to go. You’d be snuggly and warm and we’d both be growing, growing, growing. Instead, you’re here growing with the help of incredible doctors and nurses at St. Vincent – thank goodness for each one of them. They are such a gift to us.
I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry your life outside the womb started far too early. I’m so sorry we couldn’t get the labor to stop so you could stay inside. I promise you we tried our best. I’m sorry that instead of snuggling and nursing, you spent your first moments being placed in a plastic bag and poked and prodded. I’m sorry you’ve had more needles poked into your tiny body more times than your dad and I have had combined, in our entire lives. I’m so sorry you’re sleeping alone every night. I’m sorry you’re plugged into so many things and have wires coming off every limb on your teeny body. I’m sorry your diapers are smaller than any baby should ever have to wear and that you can’t even wear sweet little baby clothes. I’m sorry you haven’t met your brother or the many, many other people who love you and are rooting for you. I’m sorry your home is the NICU for the foreseeable future. I’m sorry you don’t get to feel well every day and your body is forced to work in ways it shouldn’t have to just yet. I’m sorry you have to fight so hard every single day.
This wasn’t the plan, but boy you’ve been a fighter. You’ve surprised us all and we couldn’t be more proud of you. You are in the most wonderful hands – you’re never alone. I promise you lots of snuggles when you get home. I promise to make sure you’re comfortable, loved, and growing the best you can. I promise that no matter what, your parents will be cheering for you, supporting you, and loving you always.