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Preemie Books
The
Preemie Parents Companion: The Essential Guide to Caring for Your Premature Baby
in the Hospital, at Home, and Through the First Years by Susan L Madden M.S,
William Sears MD, Jane E Stewart MD
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Anger, Frustration and
Sadness: A Preemie Mom's Look at the Emotional Roller Coaster
In 1996 my first son was born at 30 weeks' gestation. It was a very frightening time in my life. My husband and I felt alone, although there was a lot of family to support us, it just wasn't enough. When I was discharged from the hospital, I went to the NICU to see my baby, and "visit" for a short time before we left for home. I was not able to hold him due to some of the invasive lines inserted in his tiny body. When we said our goodbyes, I was wheeled to the lobby where I sat waiting for my ride. As I sat there I began experiencing a roller coaster of emotions. I was sad. I was very, very sad to be leaving my first baby behind. I felt that he needed me more now than he ever would, and I had to leave. I felt like I was abandoning him. Leaving him with strangers, something I never would have dreamt I'd do to my child. I felt like a terrible mother. I was afraid. I wondered, "Would I have a baby to bring home? Was his prematurity a battle that he could fight and win? Would all of this be for nothing? What happens if I leave and he takes a turn for the worse? I lived an hour away from the hospital. What if this was the last time I would see him alive?" I was angry. I sat in the lobby and watched other moms laughing, silly, giddy and full of happiness. They were sitting there waiting for their rides. The thing that separated us was that these moms were taking their babies home. Home to start living like a family. Home to touch her child when she wanted. Home to feel like a real mom. I was frustrated. I was both angry and frustrated because I felt the need to ask if I could hold or touch my own child. I had to schedule the time I nursed and fed my baby around the NICUs schedule. When I did nurse my baby, it was not a relaxing atmosphere like it would be at home. I was frustrated because I did not feel like I was a mom. I felt like I was playing house and my child was a doll. I would come to visit, take the baby out of the isolette and dress him with my choice of clothes, feed or nurse, and then undress him, put him "away" and then, once again, abandon him with people who still felt like strangers. I felt intimidated at times. I was told I could call the NICU at any hour of the day, but in my mind I felt if I called to ask about my baby I would be taking time away from the precious care that they so desperately needed. I was also angry with myself. Did I somehow cause this? When I was on bedrest and got up those couple of times when I knew I really shouldn't, did that somehow trigger this? I was angry because I felt cheated that my birth experience wasn't normal. Most of all I was angry because I felt all of these emotions, and the one emotion that should have been most prominent was joy. The joy that my premature son was doing well, he was alive and we could overcome anything.
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