Dear NICU Parent/Careviver
We don’t know how you arrived in the NICU world or where this letter finds you today, but we’ve been in your very shoes. When our daughter was born in February 2020, we spent 160 days in the NICU. We know this is a unit no parent initially chooses to be with their child. Some of you are frustrated and ready to go home while some of you are thankful for another day of life here with your child. Maybe you’ve been here a few hours or maybe you’ve been here for months. For all of you, you’ve welcomed your new child into this world, and your world has changed. Though your child is the patient, you are the one who will remember this, the one experiencing the emotions and physical toll.
We want you to know you are not alone.
We know how hard it is to not feel in control of your situation. We know the phone calls, learning new medical terminology, and doing the best you can to keep track of all the details while advocating for your child. We know the desire for normalcy and wanting to pick up your baby when you want without all the cords. We know the itch you get from constantly hearing the beeps, dings, and alarms. We know that little milestones are huge celebrations. We know that each day or hour can be three steps forward, one step back. We know the desire for a healthy child, the wishes for a simple, normal delivery instead of the circumstances that brought you here. We know the waiting.
If you have other children, we know the back and forth. We know the tug on your heart strings wanting to be in multiple places at once and unable to give 100% of yourself to each child.
If you are in a critical situation, we know the grief of desperately grasping for answers in the midst of the unknown. We know the longing to hold your baby and the layers of emotions when that day comes. We know the tears, deep hurt, anger, exhaustion, and questions. We know the seconds that can seem like hours in the midst of an oxygen or heart rate drop. We know what it’s like to not know if your baby will come home.
In the midst of the unknown, our hearts ache for the brokenness in this world. And in the same breath, we believe this world is not our final home; our hope is in heaven. We believe your baby’s future is either life on this earth or LIFE in heaven. We pray that you feel God with you in every decision. Scripture says in Deuteronomy 31:8, “It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
We don’t know what you're asking for or what you’re believing right now, but our prayer is that you’ll seek the God who created your child and know He has your baby in His hands. It’s ok to talk to God just as you are, with every emotion you feel. It's ok if you don’t know what words to say on behalf of your situation. God meets you right in the middle of your valley. Hebrews 4:16 says, "Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." We pray you approach Him boldly and experience that grace in each moment.
We believe your baby is loved and in the hands of our Savior always, even in situations we don’t understand. We believe God has specifically chosen you to be the parent/caregiver for this precious child. We’ve specifically prayed over your baby’s eyes, ears, mouth, nose, heart, lungs and brain. We’ve prayed for you to feel God’s presence — the great Physician — in the midst of hearing tests, eye exams, overall development, surgeries, wound treatment, oxygen support, x-rays, ultrasounds, therapies, and tests. We’ve asked God for healthy diapers for your child. We’ve specifically prayed for you as the parent/caregiver, that you would feel God so near.
In our NICU journey, we were extremely fragile and had a long road to emotional healing, but we found comfort in the fact that Jesus knew our struggles intimately. God knows what it is to be a parent watching His child suffer. He sent His son Jesus to be born on earth as the promised Savior of the world. Jesus lived on this earth and experienced struggles and suffering. He wept. He experienced the death of loved ones, emotional trauma, turmoil, raw tears, and being misunderstood by His friends and people around Him. When Jesus died on the cross, it showed that God entered into our own suffering with solidarity, empathy, and compassion, as He experienced pain in human form.
God is our Mighty Counselor. He understands our earthly suffering and sorrows. We want you to know that God is there for your heart, no matter what your situation is at home or in the hospital. He is the HOPE we can hold onto always.
The NICU world is truly unlike any other place. I want to end this letter with a few ideas for this season.
Keep a journal if you can. I had one designated to process my emotions; I know how isolating the feelings are. I had another just to document medical information day by day.
As much as you may feel the need to look at the monitors, one of the best pieces of advice given to us was “watch and know your baby.”
When/if you are able, ask the nurses to help get your baby’s footprints and handprints to save as a keepsake. They might have craft paper, or you can bring your own! It can be strange sometimes to do cute things or take photos at the hospital, but it's a great way to capture their little hands and feet.
If there are certain “firsts” that are important to you like bath, bottle, clothes etc., let the team know to call so you can be present for those moments if able.
Give yourself grace to sleep and shower. When we felt healthy and clean, it helped us be better parents.
Lastly, just take things one decision at a time. One moment at a time. A friend shared once that “God will give you enough light for the next step.” What a beautiful thought, one that we’ve experienced to be true. We’re here for you. ❤️ Please reach out via text/our website so we can serve you.
Sincerely,
The Barber Family (205-202-9109)
