Thanksgiving Day 2013 my grandson Jack was born two months ahead of schedule. He was born at 32 weeks and spent 18 days in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU).
This single event changed for me forever. My daughter, Diella, had been in the hospital a few weeks before with early onset labor. Because of great medical care Jack was born early, but with a better prognosis. He entered the world weighing 4 lbs, 7oz. Big by preemie standards, but still at risk. As a speech pathologist I was also aware that the possibilities of developmental delays were high.
My daughter’s lengthy lengthy stay in the hospital, though frightening, had also made way for unexpected bonding. Visiting her daily with homey necessities, small gifts and stories gave me a role and some peace of mind. This difficult waiting period allowed me the opportunity to mother my baby until she could mother hers.
I had always respected my daughter’s strength, but now I was in awe. Watching my daughter and my grandson each with their own painful struggle was indescribable. There was nothing I could say or do that would make this better. In addition, I had to hide my own feelings. I was scared. At times I was terrified. Our lives had become a roller coaster of high and low moments. Joy when feeding was successful. Anguish when he was placed on a feeding tube. For my daughter and her husband, Justin, the medical concerns and uncertainty were worsened by fatigue and separation from Jack. Diella summarized this poignantly in a passage from her poem “My Baby is OK, but I am Not”.
“I do not change your first diaper. I do not feed you. I do not watch with pride while people hold you and pass you around. I have to ask permission to touch you. I am chastised for having too many visitors. It’s time for staff hand off. I am forced to leave you. I’m exhausted. Please come home… I remember trying to nurse you. Listening to your heart rate. Please breathe. The alarms. You’re exhausted too. You fight.”
What is the role of the grandparent in the NICU? It’s the road less travelled with an unclear destination. There are, however, specific things grandparents can do to help their child, their grandchild and themselves.
Primarily, be there in any way you can. Respect the parents’ decisions and let them be your guide. This includes being sensitive to the limited time you may have with your grandchild. The NICU has strict visiting rules.This is their baby. Only give your opinion if asked and ask for specific ways you can help. Don’t take anything personally. Emotions run high and feelings can be easily hurt when you feel shut out. Remember, your child needs you to be supportive.
When given the OK, get to know your grandchild. Communicate with your touch, eye contact and your voice. Talk to them in soothing tones. Notice their response to you. Your grandchild will quickly learn and respond to the voices of loved ones. Cuddling, talking, reading , singing and facial expressions will encourage bonding and language growth with your grand baby. Jack still favors his bunny with my recorded voice.
Communicate with other preemie parents and grandparents. There are also many resources available locally and online. Take time to grieve privately. I used to spend a few minutes in my car prior to visiting. This time was used to quiet my fears with life affirming prayer and meditation. The NICU is a celebration of life. Give thanks and celebrate each incredible milestone along this less travelled journey.
Sharon Cole is a licensed speech, language pathologist and proud grandmother. Sharon can be contacted at [email protected]