We have ached for you every step of your life.

Before you were “you” we ached for the idea of you. Like so many, we ached for a family.  We were two moms who desperately wanted a child to love. After multiple tests, eight IUI attempts, trigger shots and prescriptions, a miscarriage and emotional highs and lows we found out that there were TWO of “you.” In that moment we knew that we would love you both wildly. 

We ached for your survival. You, our two beautiful babies, weren’t meant to come barreling into the world at 25 weeks. You weren’t meant to be so little and fragile. Both of you were supposed to be okay but the reality was only one of you would survive past the first 24 hours.  And then there was just one you; our sweet girl who would forever be more two than one. 

We ached at your pain. At times you seemed so lifeless, but we knew you were already full of the life you had ahead. We felt helpless facing your needs. They were far greater than any book we could’ve read or class we could’ve taken. They were life and death, but we did what we could. We sang to you. We advocated for you. We researched your diagnoses and hurdles. We slept by your side for the first 48 nights of your life. Even then, it didn’t feel like enough. 

We ached for us. We were angry. We were sadder than it’s dictionary definition. We wondered what we did wrong and questioned how this could be our reality. We did everything right. We believed we were “good” people who deserved you. We watched families come and go; but there we were stagnant in our own NICU nightmare. We were desperate for a future in our home. Inside our four walls with you. 

We ached for the answers to a million questions. Would your pulmonary hemorrhage cause permanent damage? Would indomethacin be enough to close your PDA? Would your aspiration resolve? Were you big enough to have hernia surgery?  And even when we got the answers we desperately searched for they weren’t always the ones we wanted. They weren’t the answers or outcomes we thought you deserved. But there you were with your unwavering strength; facing all the answers you received as they came. 

We ached for time. Parents always talk about wanting time to slow down. They exclaim that their children grow too fast. Yet there we were urging time to move faster. We wanted to fast forward through your suffering. We wanted you to gain quicker and to be stronger. But we still celebrated every ounce and every day of you. Eventually, the day we ached for came. It was your homecoming and it came when you were ready.  You were our 1lb 9oz survivor who needed 147 days to grow and gain beside her Hillcrest angels. 

Some ache to forget the NICU but we long to remember. We desperately want to remember where you started and where you now stand. Time inside is slow but life outside is sweet and swift... even with the ache. In your first year home you have had over 40 doctor’s visits and over 100 therapy appointments, but this ache is different. We once asked “why us” and now we know why. You and your story were meant to be ours. You are loved more than you feel. 

If you are reading this just know it’s okay to feel the ache. 

Bucceri Moms