Tucking things away

I've been thinking about this post for a long time.  I didn't think it would make me cry.  I thought it was going to just be about the fact that I was done pumping after 11 months, but visiting the NICU to return the pump today... I realized it's more than that.  (Not that that wasn't both a victory and difficult at the same time.  Our lack of a breastfeeding relationship will always be difficult for me.  However, the fact that she received breast milk for so long is something I am proud of.)  Returning that pump and making possibly our last trip to that NICU ever, made me realize that it's time to tuck some things away.  It's time that our life begin to be just a little more separated from the beginning.  That maybe I go a day or two and not think about your little body caving in which each breath and sobbing because the nurses couldn't get your IV in and you were screaming in your teeny, tiny quiet voice and I couldn't do anything about it.  So, these last few weeks before you turn one, I'm going to get it out of my system.  I'm going to cry for all the times I was scared and couldn't cry, for every time I saw a friend have a normal birth and take their babies home like normal parents when I couldn't, because I was so happy for them, but also, jealous.  Or every time I saw a friend have their own complications, maybe different from ours, and knew the mixed bittersweet feeling of such a birth. 

When we went to the NICU, we found out our favorite nurse had moved on, and that life there had moved on without us.  I don't know why it made me cry, I don't want to go back to you being in the NICU and being worried and scared on top of being exhausted all of the time... but I think that place has been such a big part of our identity as parents, that it was hard to see that they didn't need us to go on.  As happy as they were to see us and see how big and beautiful our baby has grown, I knew we would be off their mind quickly, because there were new babies being born that needed their attention and their reassuring words.  And we don't need them anymore.  Not that we don't need help, because we always will.  I don't think we'll ever stop praying or calling our parents and sisters in the middle of the night because we simply don't know what we're doing.

I feel a little funny pouring all of this out.  I didn't realize I had that much left inside about it.  I know we are fortunate, that our NICU experience was nearly as trauma free as they come.  Still, it was our experience, and I'm going to own it.  And then I'm going to move on.  I'll never forget it, because it did shape who we are as parents, but it's time to let new experiences take it's place in the forefront of my memories.