Noah was in NICU for 4 days. He was born at a free standing birth center, was a surprise breech, and required resucitation at birth. They did this out in the hall because that's where the equipment was, so I didn't even SEE him for 45 minutes after his birth - as he came out all I saw was a limp, gray body as the midwife scooped him up and rushed out of the room to the bassinet in the hall. I couldn't even see his face. When he was finally stabilized, they brought him back into the room for me to hold him for about 5 minutes before they took him down the street to the Children's Hospital. He was screaming (which was good - it took a while to get him to breathe on his own!), and when they handed him to me he was immediately calm and quiet. That was pretty cool. But I was in total shock about what had just occurred and was really not processing much of anything. I do remember begging the neonatologist to make sure no one gave him a bottle of anything at the hospital (and later saw that he did indeed write orders in huge letters on Noah's chart for "No bottles - cup or finger feed only until able to breastfeed").
DH followed the ambulance to the hospital while I stayed at the birth center. Noah was born at 10:16 pm, went to the hospital a little after 11 pm, and I was not able to get up there to see him until after 10 the next morning (that night was horribly surreal laying there with an empty womb and no baby in my arms)...I walked up to NICU by myself while DH parked the car, and I felt terribly disoriented not knowing the correct "procedure" to get into the unit, and then looking around for my baby among all the other beds. When I finally saw him I just burst out in tears and the nurse gave me a funny look - I could barely choke out "I haven't seen him since he was born 12 hours ago!!".
The NICU staff was great, but for those 4 days it did NOT feel like he was MY baby. I could only see him during certain hours (they made us leave during shift changes), there was no place for me to rest aside from a hard wooden rocking chair beside his bed and equally uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. I was not allowed to nurse him for about 36 hours and I was terrified that we would have breastfeeding problems because of that...but thank the Lord he latched right on like a pro when we finally got the ok to try, and he never had a bottle or anything other than the breast. I slept in the waiting room (since there was no place to lay down in the unit), and they would come wake me every 3 hours to feed him. During the day I sat and held him in the rocking chair or camped out in the "nursing room" just so I could be alone with him.
He was finally ready to go home on the 4th day, but that was delayed until evening because he had developed jaundice and they had to make sure the phototherapy was starting to work. Then they had a home health person bring us a phototherapy lamp to take home, and both of us were appalled to see it was essentially a suitcase that we were supposed to lay our baby in around the clock (except when nursing) and we refused to take it. The home health person bend over backwards (after 5 pm) to arrange a bili-blanket instead, even though one of the docs advised against it saying it wouldn't work (which it did, by the way...his levels were normal after the weekend).
The whole experience was just surreal and SO not what I was expecting...we were home in our own bed hours after my first baby was born, and she never left my presence until after she was 6 months old! The immediate forced separation devastated me and did affect bonding. It was a few days after we got home that my attachment to my baby finally kicked in - he was sleeping on our bed and I was in the living room, when it suddenly hit me how much I MISSED him and I was overcome with the need to hold him RIGHT NOW. I ran to the bedroom, scooped him up, and just cried because it finally felt the way it was supposed to. Before that moment I would actually
forget sometimes that he was there, and I felt like a monster when that happened!
It took a little while to grieve through his birth experience. My wonderful doula (who had had a NICU baby herself) helped me realize I needed to accept his birth, all of it, as the story of HIS birth even though it wasn't what I had planned. Everything that happened is his story, and I needed to be able to embrace that rather than try to stuff it down inside. With that advice and lots of grace and strength from the Lord, I healed eventually. I know that we are truly blessed that Noah is healthy and safe...he was really "ok" in the NICU, while I saw other parents sitting beside their tiny preemies and gravely sick babies who had been there 3 months already. I got to bring my baby home, without monitors, oxygen, feeding tubes, or special needs after only 4 days.
I'm so sorry that you are going through this right now...let yourself grieve for the birth experience that you lost. Cry and let yourself hurt and let yourself feel angry if you need to. Write out your baby's birth story if you haven't already, and maybe have others write out their versions of it as well. That helps get all the thoughts and feelings "out there" and organized in your head, to get them on paper. Like a previous poster, I also went to the hospital and got copies of Noah's chart - I just felt the need to read what had happened to him every moment of his time there since I missed so much of it. Then try to focus on letting those negative feelings go, accept that you can't change what has happened, but that you can move on and enjoy what you have now, and perhaps one day you can draw on your own experience to offer comfort, understanding, and help with healing to another mom going through a similar experience.
God bless -

s