Tiny but Mighty

Three pounds eight ounces
Soft, warm weight upon my chest
"Tiny but Mighty"

These reassuring words came from Amy, the nurse who taught me how to express milk and use a breastpump (more on that pleasure in another post), in the few hours after delivery. As she matter-of-factly went about her duties in the first hours after my twin delivery, she simply said not to worry about the boys, they would be fine: "I say they are Tiny but Mighty." Those words became my mantra over the coming weeks.

I knew she was right the moment I held Cameron for the first time.

As I was wheeled into the first NICU nursery I had ever been in, I glanced rapidly around the room at the various isolettes and wondered which one held my precious baby boy. I was brought around the corner to the right and Cameron's nurse, Deanna, greeted me. I peered in at this little angel and had no idea what to do: Was I allowed to hold him? To touch him? To kiss him? More importantly... Was he allowed to touch me? To feel my skin on his? To be reunited with the heartbeat that had been his beacon the past 7 months?

Before I had time to worry too long, Deanna asked if I would like to hold him. I thought "I still haven't wrapped my head around the fact that I'm not holding him inside me." Then said "Yes! Please!" And just as she opened his isolette's door and I caught a glimpse of all his little wires and tubes, his alarm began to go off. His heart rate dropped. Bells were dinging. Lights were flashing. Deanna quickly patted him and reassured me that this was nothing to worry about as his numbers began to rise back to normal.

My heart was racing.
Oh my God.
That was the scariest thing I had ever experienced.
I was suddenly simultaneously desperate to hold him yet horrified that I would hurt him.

And then, without any more time to think, I felt him.

Soft
Warm
Heavy
Heavy?
Heavy!
He actually felt heavy. His little body with an over sized preemie diaper felt heavy against my chest.
Suddenly, no longer did my heart.

I will forever remember that feeling. His perfect, soft, warm, heavy body against mine. No longer an intimidating, mysterious stranger. My baby. My first born. My fighter.

Tiny but Mighty.


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