Precisely one year ago, after a gruelling uphill struggle, Tilda was finally well enough to come home from NICU. Today, we revisited the unit to take part in a Q&A session with some parents of newborn preemies. If we were able to bring them even a sliver of hope, then it was a morning well spent.
We also encountered many of the doctors and nurses who saved Tilda’s life – it was an emotional reunion and it felt wonderful to share her progress with them. Mercifully, Tilda won’t remember a moment of her time in hospital but in their words, she was in there for so long she became somewhat of a celebrity!
It’s the little things that spark memories of last summer for me – the scent of pears, now forever synonymous with the shower gel I used in the patient hotel. The same three songs on incessant repeat as the radio blared in the milk expressing room. Even now, when my phone rings unexpectedly my heart flies into my mouth, expecting one of the many 4am calls I received urging me to come to Tilda’s bedside immediately … only for me to realise she is safe in my arms, beaming and trying to stick her finger up my nose.
As a mum to a wriggly rambunctious one-year-old it’s rare to have time to sit and reflect, but doing so today has made me appreciate just how bloody lucky I am.