I always feel sentimental when I wear these socks. I call them my NICU socks. They got that name because, for 48 hours, I walked back and forth from my room in Fairfax Hospital to the NICU to feed and change my newborn son. He was born on October 7th at 12:51pm and was taken to the NICU at 8pm for breathing issues.
I went into labor on October 6th around 4 pm after taking the girls to the pumpkin patch. I purposely rode the hayride because I knew that if my body was ready, I would go into labor. Low and behold, I started having contractions that continued to worsen throughout the day. At 11pm, we finally went to the hospital. My water was broken at 8am the next morning and he was born by 1pm.
From 8am to 12:30pm, I went from 4cm to 10cm dilated. On the way out, Maddox inhaled lots of fluid into his lungs which caused a wheezing (grunting) sound. They wanted to take him to the NICU for monitoring. This was by far the most heartbreaking time in my life. This was the first of my children to not be in the room with me after birth. Everything was so different and it felt so wrong. Once in the NICU, he had chest x-rays and antibiotics administered.
The nurses, who were really great, gave me the option to sleep and just try to feed him in the morning which meant formula throughout the night. I knew that wasn’t an option for me personally. So for 48 hours, I walked through the hospital, every 90 minutes, in these socks. This was the longest 2 days of my life. Looking back, they seem like one long day, from the moment I went into labor, until I took him home Saturday morning.
I thought about throwing these socks away because gross, they’ve been in God knows what kind of hospital cooties, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. These socks represent the strength it took for me not to melt into a puddle because Maddox was not supposed to be in the NICU. That was not my perfect ending but just as fast as it happened, it was over. My boy and I went home.