The NICU was a foreign place to me. I place I never thought I would venture to and never thought twice about prior to the birth of Mason. I understood what it was but it did not factor into my life in any way. When I was told that the NICU team was waiting for my babies arrival at the during the delivery, I just figured they were going to check him out, tell me he was ok, then go on their way. I had no idea that my sweet baby would be whisked away from me to another floor of the hospital minutes after he was born. The crazy part is that my husband went with the baby to the NICU and after 12 hours of labor I was left alone in room, uncontrollably crying due the shock of just giving birth.
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I had been waiting and waiting for the arrival of our little man, what I did not realize was that he could arrive in July and not in September as originally planned. So when my water broke on July 29th with my due date a little over 6 weeks away, I should have been terrified. But I wasn’t. A calm rushed over me knowing that this was it. I’m not sure if the calm comes from wanting to meet my sweet baby or the need to no longer be pregnant, but I just wanted to get to the hospital and move things along.
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