Coming Home From the NICU

I’m going to talk about coming home from the NICU with my eldest son (because the first time is different). The second time around, it was familiar. Still hard, but familiar.

My firstborn arrived unexpectedly at 27 weeks. I had a healthy pregnancy, and out of nowhere, I went into labor. He spent three months (my entire third trimester) in the NICU.

After 87 days in two different hospitals, it was finally time to come home. I had dreamed of that day every single one of those 87 days. I would watch parents leave with their healthy newborns in shiny new car seats, and I’d cry. I didn’t have the capacity to feel happy for them. I was surviving.

Coming home from the NICU

Our last night, we were given the option to stay in a private room with our baby. No monitors, no wires, no nurses or doctors. Just mom, dad, and baby. It was a “trial run” before going home. Totally optional, but I wanted every bit of preparation I could get. I was terrified.

Before bringing him home, I was anxious about everything: his breathing, weight gain, and overall health. The doctors advised us not to buy one of those monitors that track breathing and heart rate. I really wanted one, but we listened. And to any parent going through this right now- don’t buy it. You don’t need another thing to fixate on. You already carry enough trauma.

I want to share how we transitioned home, for anyone living this right now.

We tried to follow the NICU routine: low lights, low noise (even though NICUs are anything but quiet), sleeping on his back in a crib, feeds every three hours, daily weight checks.

Let me be honest, that lasted maybe a week.

What actually happened: We stayed strict about hygiene and limited visitors. He continued sleeping on his back in a crib. Feeding schedules went out the window—sometimes every 1–2 hours. I kept doing daily weight checks because I was obsessed. I wish I hadn’t. It only fueled my anxiety.

Around 3–4 months, he started refusing the crib, and I was exhausted. We began co-sleeping. This was a big no in the NICU, and I’m not saying anyone should do what I did—only sharing my journey. Co-sleeping came with both pros and cons, which I’ll save for another time.

We kept his bath routine every other day… unless we were too tired, which happened often.

What we focused on most was keeping our home as germ-free as possible. We limited guests heavily. Anyone who visited wore a mask, washed and sanitized their hands, and didn’t hold him—everyone was very understanding. We also avoided going out, especially since he came home in February, the coldest month in Canada.

But parent to parent, here’s what truly kept me sane:

• Whenever people asked how he was, I said word for word:“He’s just like any other baby. He’s healthy, happy, and so cute. He was just so excited to meet his mama and dada that he came early—so we had to do some growing outside my tummy.”

• I kept a gratitude journal (something I had never done before). I needed to actively look for positives.

• I didn’t Google what could go wrong. The internet can be terrifying.

• I didn’t let my mind wander. I took on small projects—finished our wedding album, tried new recipes.

• I stayed active and worked out as much as I could.

  
  

This is what worked for me—most days. Was it easy? No.

And if I’m being completely honest, I thought I was mentally and emotionally okay once we were home. It wasn’t until my second pregnancy, as I approached 27 weeks again, that the trauma came rushing back. I found myself ugly-crying alone in the bathroom. I had checkups every other week, and emotionally, it was heavy.

I’ve learned that this will always be part of my story. And as strange as it sounds, I wouldn’t change a thing, even having gone through it twice. But I also don’t think the trauma ever fully disappears. And that’s okay too.

I hope to continue sharing more of our story. What helped, what didn’t, and the lessons I’m still learning. So that other parents walking this path feel a little less alone, a little more prepared, and a little more hopeful. This chapter stays with you, but so does your strength.