Tag baby

When good babies go bad

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Just kidding, I don’t really know any bad babies. Just easy ones, challenging ones, cranky ones, sick ones etc. So our ephemeral baby came home from the hospital and has come to stay, at least for a while. She is still tiny but looks more like a growing baby everyday. What a funny thing! She still isn’t “due” so it is hard to think she is almost 2 months old.

This whole process of fostering is a minefield. Some days pure joy, then BAM you step on a mine sending your day into turmoil, a stark reminder that this baby you stay up with, take to appointments, worry about can be given back to the parents at any moment. If there was confidence that the parents were prepared, healthy and stable it wouldn’t be so heartwrenching.

I keep reminding myself that in the system there is no such thing as a “moment’s notice”, everything comes with meetings, paperwork, approvals and such but it is still a precarious place to live. I also remind myself that all parents no matter age, how financially set or the amount of support are never ready for a new baby. We all fumbled, did silly things out of inexperience as new parents. These things don’t always make me feel better. I don’t think people bring children into the world with ill intentions. My first daughter was conceived without any intention (oops!), but we at least try to prepare, do the best we can. What about parents that bring children into the world viewing them as an inconvenience or regrettable mistake, or worse yet, give them no thought at all. Unfortunately that’s how our ephemeral baby came into the world.

I will continue to get up at night, take our baby to her appointments (there are many!) attend DHS meetings, court appointments, visits and so many other things, and cuddle this baby who fought so hard to be here. I will fight with her as hard as she has fought these first moments of her life. In her 32 weeks in utero she fought to survive. She was born to lungs that didn’t want to work, she fought to grow with the help of IVs, respirators, heart monitors and feeding tubes. Now out of the hospital she has fought to learn how to eat, how to breathe, how to sleep, how to bond. I am fighting right along with her. You keep going my tiny warrior.

Tiny fingers and fiery skin

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The tiny baby that unexpectedly entered my life last week had a good day. She is breathing normal air now and got her c-pap exchanged with a regular oxygen tube.

It takes everything in my power not to kiss her tiny fuzzy head and caress her tiny face. The nurses explained that preemie skin is too underdeveloped and for the babies feels like they have a sunburn. Learning touch is a process for the preemies because at first everything hurts. So for now I will hold her tiny fingers and have a lot of hope.

The future is still unsure, so she remains my ephemeral baby (as mentioned in my previous post). Looks like both of us have a fight coming up. She will continue to fight to breathe and grow, and I will fight to protect her and get custody. For now we will just appreciate the small things- fuzzy heads, good days and the thrill of seeing neighboring babies in the NICU going home with elated and hopeful parents.

Ephemeral Babies

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Babyhood is short, fleeting and often people advise “enjoy it, they aren’t babies for long”. This is not what I am referring to. What about babies that entered the world unscheduled, unexpectedly and maintain only a precarious hold? This is not a humorous post, and I cannot predict the outcome. If this is a subject that hits too close to home, opens up psychological scars or still fresh wounds, please stop reading now. And know I am sorry you ever had to feel the chasm left by that tiny little person.

Yesterday I unexpectedly had a baby enter my life that is possibly one of these ephemeral babies. Possibly here for a short and unpredictable amount of time. I saw her tiny purple hands and all I could think was “this is my baby”. I have to clarify here that she is not, biologically, my baby. My husband and I decided years ago we did not want any more kids. This baby is a relative. Born from a body that was ill prepared to carry the weight of growing a person and delivered to a woman who was not emotionally or psychologically wired to accept this baby.

The baby was developed in a nutritionally deprived environment, growing in a soup of heroine, alcohol and other substances. The body and environment I mention is a family member that I loved dearly, but we lost years ago to this sad, belligerent, dishonest stranger. She no longer looks, acts or talks like the funny, kind person I once knew. Addiction is an dehumanizing daemon and I hope no one reading this understands what I mean. If you do, I am sorry for your pain. Know you are loved and not alone.

Back to the baby. Born at 32 weeks and 3 pounds she is an astounding and beautiful little model of survival and fierce determination. It is too early to say, but at this point, the only complications are the undeveloped lungs of any preemie and she will soon be facing the hardships of withdraw that happens to any baby born of addiction.

I had gone to the hospital with every intention of being there to console immediate family and share in the grief that these events evoke. I had prepared myself for a sick baby, tied to tubes, suffering, and not quite whole. She is all of those things, but when I met her, something exploded in my chest and all I could think was “this is MY baby”. I wanted to hold her, protect her and love her with a ferocity only felt for my other children.

She has no name, her mother didn’t give her one. Myself and one other family member are the only ones who have seen her. Her mother has yet to touch her, ask about her, or even sign the permissions for the nursing staff to provide the medical treatments she needs. She is only two days old. She may have a beautiful, long life ahead of her. Or perhaps a short, difficult life already pre-determined. Whichever lies ahead I am going to be there. I have spoken with social workers, nurses and intend to speak to a lawyer. I plan to do whatever I can to care for this tiny warrior for whatever time she has. I never intended to be the type to take on other women’s babies, heck, we didn’t even want more kids! All of that was before I met my baby.

If anyone has experience, advice or insight into preemies or fostering, I am in dire need of your help. Or if I need to let this baby go, I’ll need help understanding how to do that as well.