The Preemie Primer Book by Jennifer Gunter

Having a premature baby is a crash course in both medicine and health economics. Parents face complex information, a daunting environment, difficult decisions, and overwhelming grief and worry. As an OB/GYN I have delivered hundreds of premature babies, but I really understand the heartbreak and challenges of prematurity because I am also the mother of triplet boys born extremely prematurely. Sadly, one of my sons died and my surviving boys were hospitalized for months.

 

What do you do when you have four filing cabinets full of research on prematurity, notebooks full of observations and therapies, the keen eye of an experienced physician, the inside scoop on the health care system, the experience of a mother who has been there, and breathing space now that your premature children have not been admitted to the hospital for 18 months and counting? The decision was easy: to share my unique insight into prematurity and provide a complete and practical resource for parents - a step-by-step guide through the premature baby experience from pregnancy through kindergarten and beyond.

 

The birth of a premature baby is like being dropped in a foreign country without a guide, a map, or language skills. The Preemie Primer: A Complete Guide for Parents of Premature Babies is the guidebook every family with a premature baby should own. It is the book I wished I could have read when my boys were born.

December 25th, 2009

Christmas Morning

It is  5 am and I am sure the boys will be up in a hour, so I am enjoying the quiet inside and the darkness outside.

Yesterday we were talking about our first Christmas with the boys.  I couldn’t remember much. Sadly. We had no visits to Santa – no way I was taking 2 babies on oxygen to the mall. At the last minute, bolstered by a visit from Tony’s brother, a huge tree was installed. However, we had about 6 ornaments so it looked somewhat sparse. I am not sure if we even bought any presents, we were still shell shocked, not just from the death of Aidan and the 11 weeks in the NICU but the gravity of the situation and the uncertainty of the future. Presents just didn’t seem to matter.

I remember subsequent Christmas days just fine. The next year brought a tiny tree but presents scattered around the floor. The boys were standing and with some help taking very tentative footsteps, more delighted with the boxes than the actual gifts. And then their third Christmas, when we moved to California. After ripping open presents we spent the day running in the rain and the surf on the beach before seeking shelter and fish ‘n chips.

When the boys were 3 1/2 we had finally moved to out house.  Victor was STILL in the throngs of his balloon obsession so we bought a helium tank and Tony spent Christmas Eve filling hundreds of balloons. When the boys awoke they were greeted with a rainbow forrest hanging from mid air! Victor was speechless.

I can remember every Christmas except that first one, and it bothers me, because Christmas is a time to remember. Stress, PTSD, and sleep deprivation have left a layer of impenetrable grime on that memory.

So if I were doing it all again we would still have had a sparse Christmas, but I would have taken pictures, written in a journal, or shot some video. Something to trigger the memories.

My camera is loaded, I will snap pictures as they squeal about the Zhu Zhu pets and all the assorted goodies left by Santa. And if Santa heard me and I’ve been a good girl hopefully I will get that new ipod with the video recorder!

Merry Christmas everyone!

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