Letter to Strong Memorial Hospital NICU staff

May 6, 1999 (one week after his release from the hospital)

Dear NICU staff,

Our son, Milo was a guest of yours for the last two months.  In that time, my husband, Curtis and I watched him grow from an astonishingly small, sick, intimidating baby, into an astonishingly small, healthy, wonderful and beautiful baby.  We brought him home a week ago, and every day, one of us mentions how happy and grateful we are that Milo is okay.  We have you to thank for that. 

               When Milo was born, I didn’t even want to see him, I was so certain that he would die.  Then, when I did see him, I wanted to leave as fast as I could.  I was so afraid of him.  It seemed to me that he would always be hooked up to machines, he would never breathe on his own, and that I would never be able to hold him.  When Nurse Jenny asked me that first time if I wanted to hold him, I was terrified, but so thrilled.  Holding him that day was the first time I felt ready to handle any of what was happening.  Then, slowly, I noticed that Milo was getting better.  He was hooked up to less machinery, able to be out of the isolette more often, and then able to breastfeed.  For as much as I hated our breastfeeding bouts for their difficulty, there was still an aspect of normalcy that I welcomed: all breastfeeding mothers struggle to get it right.  I still suspect that Milo and I struggled more than normal, but the happy news is that, just when I was ready to give up, Milo just chomped on, and has been feeding like a champ ever since.  He saw his new pediatrician, and in the six days that he’d been home, he gained three and a half ounces.  Not a huge gain, but enough that I’m encouraged that we’re getting the hang of things.

               Milo has been out to the doctor and to the film developing place.  He’s met our cat (who is terrified of him), a neighbor, and the nice ladies at the film developing place who have been watching him grow through pictures since he was born.  We’ve been very careful, and Milo does just fine.  His Gramma has been to visit twice.  His favorite toy is a wind up giraffe that plays “Talk With the Animals.”  We’ve discovered that “Huggies Newborns” diapers are perfect for him, and that Pampers newborns are only good for directing the poop out the legs and up his back (yick).  Curtis is a champ at getting Milo to sleep, but the only way I can get him to sleep for more than an hour is to lay on the couch with him snuggled up against my neck and sleep with him (trust me, I don’t mind a bit!)   We’ve taken a couple of walks around the block, and every day, I think we’re all getting a little bit more used to each other. 

               If I could afford gifts for you all to show you the size of our gratitude, you’d all be moving into beach mansions and driving Ferraris.  As it is, all we can do is thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, for this opportunity to be parents to our beautiful son.  We would have cherished him anyway, but after all we’ve been through, we both agree that our little boy will be cherished tenfold.  Thank you Thank you Thank you.  You saved our son’s life.  You gave him such wonderful, wonderful care, with both medicines and love .  Bless you all.  Enjoy the pictures!