the word no does not fully communicate the no-ness of my answer

We got an invitation to a NICU reunion this week.

Now I'm sure that people who spent a long time there, who made friends with the nurses, whose kids actually needed to be there may want to go to that sort of function. I will not be attending.

Just thinking about it gave me flashbacks. Not the good kind.

I didn't mean to be rude about the NICU nurses in my last post (sorry, Jimmy). I'm sure some of them are very nice people. But it was such an awful situation. My kid was sick, I was in pain, and the nurses weren't there to take care of me, they were there to take care of my baby. The thing is - that was/is MY job. So naturally there was some um. . . awkwardness.

Here is one of my most potent memories:

One of the few times I was able to just hold her and be left alone, I looked around the ward. There were several "stations" around the room with wires and outlets, just waiting for a machine that goes "bing" and a baby to be wheeled over in a little Tupperware bin. (Oh, they call those bassinets? They make my baby look like leftovers). The ward could be re-arranged to accommodate more babies if the need arose. Pushed over to the side was a little baby bouncy seat. Jungle animals and bright flowers completely out of place in the sterile room. I never saw anyone use it. It occurred to me to wonder why it was there in the first place. Then I noticed a small plaque on the top. It said "In loving memory of - - - - - - -. (Insert beautiful baby's name that some girl picked out when she was fifteen and has been secretly planning for ever since).

It was at that moment that I realized that babies had died in this room. And I had a mini meltdown. Babies DIED here. Most of the clothes and "extras" sitting around the ward were donated by parents who couldn't stand to go home to all those shower gifts and an empty nursery. The heartbreak behind four little words and a baby swing were overwhelming. And then I realized that MY baby was in this room. And I wanted to grab her and run. My child doesn't belong here! I thought. Babies die here! WHY would you put my baby in a room where babies die? And I had to tuck her into her stay-fresh-dishwasher-safe bed and walk away.

So, no. I will not be attending a reunion. Though I am grateful for a healthy, happy baby. Please forgive me if I stay as far away as possible.

And snuggle this instead.