The Scars Heal, but maybe not as quickly as you would hope.
I’ve got lots of scars on my body from all of the poking and prodding I received while on bedrest for several weeks. My hands resemble “connect the dots” games I used to play when I was younger. And when I get a little bit of sun color on them, all of the little white dots that were left from the IV needles almost light up like a Christmas tree. Slight exaggeration I guess. I have a crazy scar from my emergency c-section that still hurts when it rains or storms. Almost 19 years later.
But those scars heal.
The scars of the NICU
What about the scars that aren’t visible to the naked eye? The ones that nearly 19 years later can wake me up to check my 360 app just to see if the boys are in their dorm room, safe and sound. Or the scar that has me cuddle up with Liam once in a while just to hear his heart “beep” with my own ears. After all, that heart I listen to was broken at one point in his life, and I need to hear it every now and then to remind myself that he is ok.
What about the scars of the mom screaming in agony down the hall because her child wasn’t with her any longer. Those scars heal a lot slower.
Looking back, I probably could have used counseling or other assistance during my NICU experience (it was offered). In truth, it took all I had in me to wake up (reluctantly), shower (maybe), brush my teeth (always) and put makeup on (cover my sadness). I didn’t have it in me to talk to anyone about my feelings and the pain I was going through every single day I walked through the NICU doors.
What about those scars? They heal, but perhaps a little slower.
Those inner cuts and bruises still show their ugly faces sometimes. Does this resonate with you? Am I the only one that holds on to any of the sounds or smells from the NICU? As you may know, I now live in Georgia and Kroger grocery store is our go-to for our daily shopping. The soap they use in their bathrooms is the “same” soap that Blank NICU used. When I go to Kroger, I often use their bathroom, if for no other reason than to wash my hands. It takes me back.
Everyday is more healing and I celebrate everyday. I’m still continuing to heal, but it doesn’t paralyze me any longer. I don’t live in fear any longer. ALL of the “what ifs” are gone. They have healed.
But my memories hold on – just a little bit – to the scars of the NICU.
