…you measure your baby’s weight in grams.
And the answer to “How old is your baby?” is a story, not a number.
You sometimes feel more like a nurse than a mom or a dad.
You’ve thought about buying stock in hand sanitizer.
Five pound babies look huge, and eight pound babies look impossible.
Of course you know how many CCs are in an ounce.
You’ve celebrated the day preemie size clothes actually fit your preemie.
And the parking attendants and cafeteria staff at the hospital know you by name.
You hear monitors going off even when you’re not in the NICU.
The hospital recliners have started to feel more comfortable than your bed.
When someone says kangaroo, you think ‘care’ instead of Australia.
Premature birth feels like your normal.
Which is why you use medical acronyms like it’s no big deal.
You’ve stopped noticing – or caring – how badly the skin on your hands is peeling.
It feels like your car drives itself to and from the hospital.
And you’ve started to actually crave the hospital cafeteria’s chocolate pudding.
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