Perspective

Sweetheart, I am here

I am here. As I sit next to you for another day I want you to know that I am here, for you, for me and I’m not going anywhere without you.


I can see you, or at least parts of you, from where my chair is positioned next your incubator. I can see your tiny, tiny hand move every now and then burdened under the weight of all the lines that are going into your veins keeping you alive. I can  see your teeny toes wiggle with the oximeter strapped around your foot, no bigger than a thimble. I can see your heart rate, your oxygen saturation, your respiratory rate, a terrifying trio of lights and alarms that tell me you’re doing ok (or not). But I can’t hold you, or touch you without permission and detailed instructions. Every instinct in me wants to pick you up and protect you and tell you I love you, provide you with some reassurance that it’s all going to be ok but I can’t even do this for you. What mother can’t hold their own baby, I could never have anticipated the pain this would cause. But one day I will sweetheart, one day soon we will get to snuggle for the first time. 


I know you can’t see me, you can’t see anything, your eyes aren’t even ready to open just yet. I can only imagine what a surreal world this must be for you. You aren’t meant to be here yet, you aren’t meant to be trying, desperately, to breath on your own, you aren’t meant to be fed through tubes and syringes, you aren’t meant to be struggling to stay warm – I am still meant to be doing all this for you, that was meant to me my job. You were my greatest responsibility, my most profound priority but I couldn’t do it and I’m so sorry for that. I am more sorry about that than anything I have ever been sorry about before in my life. I didn’t realise how desperately I wanted to bring you into this world healthy and safe until that was no longer an option. 


So I will sit here, day in and day out, trying to be your Mum, trying to care for you amidst all this chaos and fear. I will continue to try and find ways to let you know that I am here, that I see you and that you, my tiny princess, are more loved than I could have ever dreamed possible. 


Some days have been so hard for you I know, far too hard than it ever should be for someone so small. But it is only your size that is tiny as your strength is far greater than any force I have witnessed in my life. And if little by little, every day you get stronger than that’s all I can hope for, and as long as you keep fighting I will be here beside you fighting with you too. 


You and I have a long way to go on this journey together and one day I will tell you about your entrance into this world and how you fought to stay in it. I am so proud to be your Mummy, you are my most profound achievement and there’s nothing I won’t do to show you the way home. 
But for now rest up my angel, you have lots to accomplish still. I am here, I will always be here. In your short life you have taught me so much already and I know that miracles really do exist because I get to see one every time I look at you. 


I’ll be here, right here, whenever you’re ready my darling. 

https://m.facebook.com/allaboutpremspage/

Mummy to three beautiful little girls. I have ex24-weeker twins (one grew her wings too soon) and another gorgeous [full-term] baby girl. I'm a working Mum and my amazing husband is a stay at home Daddy for our girls. I am passionate about helping families who have been affected by prematurity. If we can make this premmie journey easier for just a few, then I would call that success!