I see you … you’re drinking Ronald McDonald coffee you smuggled into your little one’s room sitting in the middle of IV alarms, feeding tubes, ventilator equipment, and nurses chattering in the background. You’re spending Christmas in the NICU, PICU, or surgery floor.
I see you smiling at your baby — thankful to be with her even if she’s in a warming tank or you’re wearing those noisy isolation gowns.
Despite your smiles I know you’re struggling with tears and questions — why do we have to spend the holidays here? Why do we have to endure this?
It’s okay; I know that your burden is very real and very heavy.
Can I give you some advice as a woman who spent 281 days in the hospital with her baby?
Mama, decorate your baby’s crib. Even in the middle of the storm, you need to find ways to make these days special.
If baby can tolerate stimuli, I hope you sing her your favorite Christmas carols and dress her in the outfit you got at your baby shower.
Eat the extra cafeteria sugar cookie and take a little time to look at the Christmas lights down the street.
Give your husband an extra long kiss before he goes back to work.
Please buy a tiny Walmart tree and set it up in your Ronald McDonald apartment and enjoy the free gifts they leave hanging on your door.
This is your Christmas.
This horrible, exhausting, lonely Christmas is your Christmas and one day it will end.
One day you’ll look back at this season and wonder how the days passed so quickly.
But until then, be easy on yourself. Find ways to make these precious days count.
You need to survive these days just as much as your baby needs to survive. You need to be gentle with yourself — after all, you’ve lost so much normalcy — it’s okay for you to grieve the loss of normalcy.