Being a NICU mom means living in an anxious state of mind all the time. Sometimes without even realizing it.
I drive to the hospital with Waze on. Not because I need GPS, I know all of the fifty bazillion ways to get there. I keep it on for the traffic updates because I want to get there as quickly as possible every single time.
Even a 5 minute delay feels like eternity and is enough to make my blood boil.
Jaxon’s fave way to sleep.
I keep it on because it counts down how many minutes until I arrive and what my arrival time will be. I think about what that time means as I drive. Am I just in time for a feed? To change their diapers and do their Q3 cares? Is there time to maybe grab a coffee on my way up to their floor (mobile ordering of course because standing in line would feel too long)? Did I miss rounds? An ultrasound? A blood test? What have I missed already in a place that runs 24/7?
Axel working out behind bars.
And I think about other drivers. Where they’re going. Does the man in the dusty CRV have children with complex conditions or needs? Is the woman in the Audi living through some difficult time? Or are they all just enjoying a summer day in a year full of happiness?
Sometimes I wish life was like that again. I miss being happy. Maybe I’ll get there again one day. For now, I exist. And I write crap like this while I snarf down a sandwich, taking a break to recharge quickly but never fully, like when your iPhone goes from 10% to 25%. ✌🏼
