My first pregnancy was fairly textbook, and my daughter was one of the 4% of babies that actually come on their due date. The second time around, though, was a lot different. Not only was I chasing a toddler around the house, but I developed cholestasis around the 30-week mark, a liver condition that made my skin so itchy I was in constant distress—and I came down with Covid shortly thereafter.
My body was under a lot of stress, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when my water broke at just over 34 weeks. I would need a C-section due to my daughter’s breech position. They quickly whisked her away after she was born, and she spent the first two weeks of her life in the NICU.
Having a baby in the NICU is traumatic, no matter the length of stay. I held out hope that my daughter would be able to come home with us when I was discharged—but she needed to stay to learn how to consistently breathe on her own.
For those two weeks I tried to navigate recovering from major abdominal surgery, managing a toddler who didn’t really understand what was going on and visiting a newborn in the hospital, but I constantly felt like I was failing both of my girls.
I felt guilt over my inability to be two places at once
I felt crushed and defeated when we walked out of the hospital, but was also so excited to see my daughter at home. Feeling this way made me feel icky, and kicked off a cycle of guilt on both sides—when I was in the NICU I felt guilty for not being home, and when I was home I felt guilty for not being in the NICU.
My husband and I split our time those two weeks by going to the NICU for a few hours in the morning after our oldest went to daycare, and then going back after we had had dinner with our toddler. I felt guilty for how much time that meant our newborn was by herself in the NICU, and my heart constantly hurt thinking she was lonely and knowing she wasn’t being cuddled and told how much she was loved, like she would have been at home.
On the other hand, I was trying to create a sense of normalcy for our toddler by being there when she got home from daycare and for dinnertime, but felt guilty that I wasn’t putting her to bed in order to get more time in the NICU. I also felt guilty that when I was with my toddler that I wasn’t fully present, because I was thinking about how much longer it would be until I got to go back to the hospital. It felt like a lose-lose situation.
If you are in a similar situation, I promise you are doing a great job
I think I would have felt guilty even if I didn’t have another child at home. In my mind, I felt like if I didn’t have a toddler at home I would have been at the NICU all the time. The reality is that’s just not realistic—I still would have needed to prioritize sleep and recovery.
You cannot burn a candle from both ends. If I had tried to be in two places at once constantly, I would have stunted my own recovery and been worse off for both of my girls. Let this be a reminder: Take the nap and do something for yourself every day that your child is in the NICU. You’ve got to take care of your own needs, too.
My new baby was in the best hands possible, and was getting plenty of love from all of the amazing nurses in the NICU. My toddler was also in the best hands possible getting some time with me and special time with my mom, who graciously swooped in to help.
Those two weeks were the toughest of my life so far, but looking back, I also wish I had given myself grace and recognized the superhero efforts I was making to ensure both of my daughters felt loved. I wish I would have been able to realize that I was doing the best that I could do—and that it was more than enough.
