NICU

So many emotions have been flooding my mind and my heart since we've set our date, well really our whole pregnancy. But now that our pregnancy is nearing the end, I've been uber emotional. I feel like I've been pregnant for at least a year. When everyday feels so long and when each week is filled by so much uncertainty, and you're always looking for the next milestone, the next week, the next couple of ounces for the baby to weigh, the weekly mark of a viable pregnancy....there are so many days to count, and every day counts.
I am thoroughly uncomfortable with 8lbs worth of babies, 4 legs, 4 arms constantly battling for space inside of me. I have been having some contractions since Saturday that have added worry to my already long stress list.  I literally cannot take even the smell of the tray they bring my meals in on. I ask them to take it back before they even walk through the door. I am ready to be home.
With all of that being said, I realized today how selfish I have been with every complaint I've made. I've always been aware this whole hospital stay and monitoring has been all for the greater good, for the well being of our babies. Today I realized those were just words coming from my mouth. I had no idea what that that truly meant until this afternoon. I toured the NICU.
Last night while Dallas was here, we were brought over to see the NICU, but they were too busy and said it wasn't a good time for us to see everything/talk to anyone. To be honest, it was sort of a relief...because I was shaking in my wheelchair on the way there. The wheelchair ride there feels like a never ending winding path (as I imagine most of the parents feel their journey is when they have a baby in the NICU) the hallway is so long and winding, and there are creepy paintings of cartoon animals as you get closer, followed by the most heart warming professional photos of premie babies. So today, Donna was here visiting and then Jon came by and in walked the woman who has been so sweet to me and trying to set up this tour for us. I mentioned about 30 times I wanted to wait for Dallas, but she insisted now was the time for me to go there when it was in between visiting times and then later we can go back when he gets here. I immediately broke down, Jon left and Donna stayed to come with me, thank goodness.
I immediately tried to detach myself from what was around me and focus solely on the sweet  NICU nurse who was talking to me, even though I could barely wrap my mind around what she was saying because I was so overwhelmed. I'm sure I had hives. I tried not to look at the babies that were there and to think of anything else, and just tried to breathe and hold in every tear that wanted to free fall out of my soul. It was so quiet. I was obviously sitting in my wheelchair, so I didn't have a good view of the babies in their incubators because they are raised a little higher,  thank goodness. She pushed me towards a set of twins and I tried to seem involved and interested, but I just wanted to run out of the room and into my husbands arms.  I saw this baby breathing. It's unlike anything you've ever seen. You see every ounce of air fill their tiny lungs and the ribs through their delicate skin that seems too thin. Their hands are so tiny and every movement looks like discomfort because they should still be inside their mother's womb. They are so helpless and look lost.  The nurse said every day that they are inside me counts.  Every single day.  Every day that passes and they are still inside of me, is one less day they will be in there.
I remember thinking 32 weeks & 4lbs would be my mental goal for the girls and I would feel a relief getting to that point. Well, that day is tomorrow, and I am so thankful to have made it this far, because so many MoMos don't, but it's still not good enough. I know and believe that it's in God's hands, and if He got us this far, I know He will get us through the rest. I just wish now that I could stay in the hospital for another 2 months and have 14lbs worth of babies inside me.  I am making a deal with the girls that they won't hear me complain one more time, and everyday I am in this room will feel like a vacation instead of a jail sentence. I will be happy to be here from this day forward. Here's to the 25th and strong, fat 34 weekers.