NICU Reunion

Every year, Medical Center of Plano holds a reunion for all the children that graduated from their NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). When your child is in the hospital for many weeks or months, you meet and bond with a lot of other parents and the nurses and doctors that are there every day saving your child's life. Then you leave (hopefully with a healthy baby) unlikely to to see most of those people again. The reunion gives us a chance to check back in with the other parents, and see their children free of the veil of tubes, wires, and worry that they wore in the NICU. And we get to see and thank again the doctors and nurses who worked so hard to bring our lives back in balance. I know they enjoy seeing their former patients happy and growing, and I envy them the ultimate sense of job satisfaction that these reunions must bring.

We met with our friends from the NICU, held each other's babies, and spoke of the families, doctors, and nurses that weren't able to attend. We have looked forward to this day for almost a year; every time we passed the poster in the NICU waiting room that had photos of previous year's graduates. Being able to attend the reunion was a goal that we sometimes, in the darkest days, dared not pin our hopes on. But all those smiling children gave us hope that we'd make it through the NICU experience as well.

We had our photo taken at the reunion, so now perhaps our faces will give a little hope to parents that find themselves walking past that poster every day for weeks that seem like months. Carla and I have both taken better portraits, but it's not about us, is it? It's about that beautiful little miracle sitting on my lap, oblivious for now of just how special she is. And it's about the tiny angel on the empty lap next to her, who gave his twin sister a bit of his strength their last few days in the womb, so she'd have the boost she needed to make it to this day.


We had hoped that Carter would make it to the reunion, but he's still recovering up in Boston. He's had a few scary days lately, but unfortunately, that's fairly typical for the ICU. Last I heard, he's doing well and we're just waiting for a bit more stability before he can head home.

Hannah's quite mobile these days, traveling on vinyl and carpet with equal ease. She likes the sounds her hands make when she's crawling on the kitchen floor, so sometimes she exaggerates it a bit, slapping the floor extra hard with each step. Making motorboat noises (with her mouth) also seems to add to the experience for her.


She's still trying to break into the coffee table (see below), ever since the one time the rubberband around the handles broke and she was able to start pulling out the treasure of incense, candles, and holiday gift tags. It's secured with a zip-tie now that she is unlikely to defeat until she masters her opposable thumbs and gets hold of some cutting tools. But that doesn't deter her, because she knows exactly what wonders lie behind those doors. I suggested to Carla that for Hannah's birthday present (July 15th) we should let her find those doors unlocked, with some new toys and maybe some yummy Cheerios behind them.


She's still working on pulling herself up on the hearth, chairs, or coffee table. I think she knows that the remote control we gave her to play with is just a decoy, and that the one up on the coffee table is the one to have. "Must . . . reach . . . remote!"