In a previous article, I shared helpful tools I acquired during my NICU experience. It also proves helpful in such a circumstance to see the humor amidst all the monotony of such a situation. With a sincere desire to bring laughter, or at least a grin to those experiencing what I have experienced, I contribute this piece.
Some babies in the NICU are surrounded by matters of a scandalous nature. I would covertly make myself aware of these circumstances to help ease the boredom that sometimes comes in the NICU. This overhearing brought a substantial amount of day to day entertainment.
For example, the baby that had no visitors, it was overheard, was in the middle of a custody battle due to the mothers lack of knowledge as to the actual father. When the father arrived to retrieve the child, my mouth gaped at the results of the hearing. Quite literally as well, because my husband had to shake me out of my blatant staring, as my eaves dropping at times became quite apparent. It was as good as a television drama.
On another note, to my closest acquaintances, I am not admired for my coordination in comparison with most people. It created quite a nervous response to understand that I would be holding, caring for, or even being in the same room with a baby attached to so many wires necessary for his continued survival. I am thankful, and surprised, that no serious circumstance transpired, however, there were several comical ones.
The incubator in which my son was living had little arm holes that were opened by pushing open a latch to a door. You could then reach in and hold his hand, etc, without getting him too cold. Well, it was not common knowledge to me that these door were spring loaded. I pushed the latch, not minding the door itself, which whipped open very abruptly, creating a loud bang against the nearby monitors.
I quickly turned to my son's reaction at this calamity, and he had formed a death grip with all the effort of his three pound body around the tubes giving him oxygen and had even lifted them over his head. It caused a great stir in his poor little heart. After a few moments of calming his fear, I pried his fingers off the cords and explained that I was his mother, and these sorts of experiences needed getting used to if he were to be my son.
I must say, before making my next anecdote, that in the category of human beings, NICU nurses rank far and away compared to the rest of us. However, when I received advice from different nurses about the different methods of caring for my baby, they gave contradicting advice on occasion. This only pertained to their personal likes and observations, not the crucial medical details.
For example, one nurse said that after you feed the baby, you should barely tap it on the back and then lay him down immediately to prevent throwing up or any other stomach irritation. The next nurse said when you are done feeding the baby you should bounce him up and down, spin him in circles, rub his head, and smack him on the back to burp him. Needless to say, I've resorted to my own method on this matter.
I could go on, since I have acquired forty-five days worth of humorous anecdotes from my time in the NICU. They would include not once speaking to a doctor that didn't have a thick accent from some exotic country, only complicating my understand of the already alien details of my son's treatment, for example. Or the cleaning lady who repeatedly invaded me in the private breast pumping room, despite the sign that says ocupado. But, I will now allow you to reflect on your own experience, whether it is currently in motion, or a distant memory as mine, to find idiosyncrasies to laugh at of your own.
Some babies in the NICU are surrounded by matters of a scandalous nature. I would covertly make myself aware of these circumstances to help ease the boredom that sometimes comes in the NICU. This overhearing brought a substantial amount of day to day entertainment.
For example, the baby that had no visitors, it was overheard, was in the middle of a custody battle due to the mothers lack of knowledge as to the actual father. When the father arrived to retrieve the child, my mouth gaped at the results of the hearing. Quite literally as well, because my husband had to shake me out of my blatant staring, as my eaves dropping at times became quite apparent. It was as good as a television drama.
On another note, to my closest acquaintances, I am not admired for my coordination in comparison with most people. It created quite a nervous response to understand that I would be holding, caring for, or even being in the same room with a baby attached to so many wires necessary for his continued survival. I am thankful, and surprised, that no serious circumstance transpired, however, there were several comical ones.
The incubator in which my son was living had little arm holes that were opened by pushing open a latch to a door. You could then reach in and hold his hand, etc, without getting him too cold. Well, it was not common knowledge to me that these door were spring loaded. I pushed the latch, not minding the door itself, which whipped open very abruptly, creating a loud bang against the nearby monitors.
I quickly turned to my son's reaction at this calamity, and he had formed a death grip with all the effort of his three pound body around the tubes giving him oxygen and had even lifted them over his head. It caused a great stir in his poor little heart. After a few moments of calming his fear, I pried his fingers off the cords and explained that I was his mother, and these sorts of experiences needed getting used to if he were to be my son.
I must say, before making my next anecdote, that in the category of human beings, NICU nurses rank far and away compared to the rest of us. However, when I received advice from different nurses about the different methods of caring for my baby, they gave contradicting advice on occasion. This only pertained to their personal likes and observations, not the crucial medical details.
For example, one nurse said that after you feed the baby, you should barely tap it on the back and then lay him down immediately to prevent throwing up or any other stomach irritation. The next nurse said when you are done feeding the baby you should bounce him up and down, spin him in circles, rub his head, and smack him on the back to burp him. Needless to say, I've resorted to my own method on this matter.
I could go on, since I have acquired forty-five days worth of humorous anecdotes from my time in the NICU. They would include not once speaking to a doctor that didn't have a thick accent from some exotic country, only complicating my understand of the already alien details of my son's treatment, for example. Or the cleaning lady who repeatedly invaded me in the private breast pumping room, despite the sign that says ocupado. But, I will now allow you to reflect on your own experience, whether it is currently in motion, or a distant memory as mine, to find idiosyncrasies to laugh at of your own.
About the Author:
Haylee Landford is the mother of a premature baby, that is currently six months old. She travels with her family to write articles for Land For Sale with which she is a guest author.
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