Sunday, February 2, 2014


If you have ever been in the NICU, you know it is a scary place. Each baby has their own story to tell, each parent has the look of worry in their eyes and prayers are said all the time.

My little man, my peanut, my JT, was in the NICU. He was in the NICU for only a short amount of time, shorter than what was thought. The NICU we were at gave babies nick-names. He was called the pride and joy, because 1. How cute he is, and 2. How fast he came around. He was considered a miracle baby on my floor. All the nurses in the NICU and on my floor went to see him and fell in love with him.

I can't speak for other, just for myself, but after what I went through, I know that I am not the same person. Before, when I heard about babies being in the NICU, it was sad, but's heart breaking. If you think about it, seeing a baby in the warmer, or incubator, just makes the baby look smaller. Having to check in to your babies room, helping with feeding your baby, changing his diaper, and taking his temp, having to hold your baby a special way, if you are able to hold him at all, just...makes you ache.

My little boy has a story. I don't know if I will be able to share his story or the story of his birth, but I do know I can share his recovery. I can share how much I cried. I can share that praying helped get me through. There is a saying, God doesn't give you more than you can handle. At the time, I thought he did, but then I found this:

I know he has helped me handle everything. I know I am stronger, then I was before. I know I have a soft spot in my heart for babies like mine. 

Just something that helped me not be so scared. 

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