Imagines...

Imagine ... the first word your baby hears is "NOOOOOO" shouted at the top of his mother's lungs, because although you know less than nothing about premature babies, you do know that 14 weeks early is far, far too early ... Imagine ... a room full of people (how? you've been in the hospital less than ten minutes, they don't even know your name) all holding their breath so that the tiny, weak cry of your baby is heard as he is born... Imagine ... opening your eyes and looking up at your adored husband and seeing a look of absolute terror and panic on his face ...

Imagine ... as your baby is being rushed up to the Special Care Baby Unit, someone asking "have we got a name?" and realizing you don't know whether the baby is a boy or a girl ...

Imag ine ... being able to hold your son for the first time 18 days later, wrapped loosely in a blanket, and not being sure how much is him and how much is blanket ...

Imagine ... after only three weeks he is moved out of Intensive Care..

Imagine ... the phone call at 4.00 am the next day ("your son Has suffered a pneumothorax") ...

Imagine ... one week later, on your own birthday, seeing a certificate stuck on your son's incubator "Today I reached 1 kilogram in weight"... the best birthday present ever ...

Imagine ... spending your first night with your baby, in the flat attached to the SCBU, over 100 days later, two days before he finally comes home in Christmas week, and seeing his huge eyes as he realizes you're not leaving him this time ...

Imagine ...

Laura Simon and Nathan Windisch