As the #30DaysofBrave campaign comes to a close, we reflect on the powerful stories shared by parents who’ve walked the difficult and emotional path of the NICU. One such story is from NICU mama, Alexandra, who reminds us that bravery doesn’t always look like what we expect. Sometimes, bravery is simply moving forward, step by step, when the road ahead feels overwhelming.
Alexandra’s journey began in a way that no parent could ever anticipate. At 22 weeks pregnant with her third daughter, her water broke prematurely. The uncertainty and fear she must have felt in that moment were unimaginable. Despite the odds, she was able to hold on to her pregnancy for nine more days, giving her daughter, Kennady, a bit more time to develop. But at 23 weeks and 4 days, Kennady was born unexpectedly, unassisted in the Maternal-Fetal Medicine (MFM) unit.
Kennady weighed only 1lb, 4oz and was just 11 inches long. She was incredibly sick and had to be intubated for weeks. The doctors and nurses at the NICU worked tirelessly to help her survive, but the journey was far from easy. For Alexandra and her family, every day was a new challenge, each one marked by fear and uncertainty.
A Journey of Unseen Bravery
Looking back, Alexandra reflects on the time she spent in the NICU. “During our NICU stay, I didn’t feel brave,” she admits. “I was just taking the next step.” In those early days, bravery didn’t feel like something she could claim. It wasn’t grand gestures or moments of overwhelming courage, but rather the simple act of moving forward—finding childcare for her older daughters, cooking, cleaning when she could, pumping around the clock, and working part-time to keep things going. All of those daily tasks, done in the face of the unimaginable, were her quiet acts of bravery.
At the time, it felt like she was just trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy for her family. Her older daughters, who were 4 years old and 18 months at the time, needed their mama to be present for them. Alexandra and her husband tried to keep things as normal as possible, even though their hearts were heavy with worry for their newborn daughter in the NICU. They knew that their girls needed stability and love, and they fought to give them that, even in the midst of chaos.
When Alexandra looks back on that time, she realizes that was her bravery. She was moving forward, doing what needed to be done, even when it felt like too much to bear. And she’s incredibly proud of herself and her husband for showing up every day for their family, even when they didn’t feel strong.
A Miracle in the NICU
Alexandra is quick to share her gratitude for the NICU team that cared for Kennady. “I’m so proud of her NICU team who bravely believed that she was a statistic-defying baby,” she says. The doctors and nurses at the NICU saw something special in Kennady from the beginning. They believed in her when others may have doubted, and their faith in her became a driving force for the entire family.
Today, Kennady is thriving. She runs around with her older sisters, laughing and playing just like any other child. Her premature birth and NICU stay didn’t define her; they made her stronger. She is a testament to the power of medical care, resilience, and the love of her family.
Bravery in the Everyday
Looking at her daughter now, Alexandra is filled with pride. Kennady, the tiny baby who once fought for every breath, is now a lively little girl, proving that nothing can hold her back. And in that, Alexandra sees her own strength — the quiet, persistent bravery that got her through those long NICU days.
For all the NICU mamas who feel like they aren’t being brave enough, Alexandra’s message is clear: It’s okay to not always feel brave. In fact, bravery often looks like just taking the next step, even when you don’t feel like you can go on. It’s about doing what needs to be done, no matter how difficult it feels. And even in the quiet moments when you feel like you’re just surviving, know that you are still showing immense bravery.
To the families still in the NICU, to the parents who feel lost or overwhelmed, take heart. One day, you will look at your baby, just as Alexandra does with Kennady, and you will see all the strength, love, and resilience that you both have built together. You are doing this, even when it doesn’t feel like you are. Keep going, and know that one day, you will look back with pride at how far you’ve come.
From Tiny Baby to Big Boy: A NICU Mama’s Journey of Hope and Resilience
This morning, my 3-year-old Dawson made a simple, yet profound statement. He looked up at me with the confidence only a toddler can have and said, “I’m a big boy, not a baby.”
I smiled and responded, “You’re a big boy, but you will always be MY baby.” As I scooped him into my arms and held him close, I felt a wave of emotion flood over me. For a moment, I held my little boy, just like I did when he was an infant, so small and fragile, a baby who needed me for everything.
But as I held him, memories flooded back — memories of a time when my baby was, in fact, just a tiny baby. Dawson was born 13 weeks early, at just 27 weeks gestation, and weighing only 3 pounds and 4 ounces.
I’ll never forget the fear that gripped me in those first few moments. I didn’t know if he would survive. I didn’t know if he would ever be okay. The doctors and nurses at the hospital tried to reassure me, but how could they know? They didn’t know what the future would hold for my son.
When Dawson was born, I felt completely unprepared for the journey that lay ahead. Every moment was filled with uncertainty and fear. Would he be okay? Would my definition of “okay” even apply anymore?
Dawson’s premature birth left me with so many questions. Would his life be filled with challenges I couldn’t even imagine? Would he thrive, or would he struggle every day? I couldn’t stop the worry from flooding my mind.
For those first few days, I was terrified, and I clung to every sign of hope. Dawson was so tiny, so fragile, and his fight for survival felt so impossible. He was connected to so many machines, his tiny body wrapped in tubes and wires. The nurses would hold him in their hands like he was the most delicate thing on earth, and I would sit by his side, whispering prayers for his survival. I remember those moments, holding my tiny 2 lb 5 oz baby on my chest, praying for a glimpse of his future — a future filled with health, happiness, and joy.
A Miraculous Recovery
Looking at Dawson now, I can hardly believe how far we’ve come. He is no longer the tiny, fragile infant I once held in my arms, but a strong, vibrant, and full-of-life 3-year-old. He talks nonstop, sings his favorite songs, runs, jumps, and plays with his friends. He fills my life with laughter and joy, and when I see his little face light up with excitement, I can’t help but think of how lucky we are to have come this far.
Dawson defied all odds. He was expected to stay on the CPAP machine for four weeks, but he was off it after just three. He was expected to need high-flow oxygen for an extended period, but he was on it for only a week. His progress was astounding. Every day, he gained weight, his strength increased, and he became more and more independent. His determination was something I had never seen before, and as a mother, it was impossible not to feel a deep sense of pride. I watched my son, who was once so fragile, transform into the energetic, joyful boy he is today.
The biggest fear we faced was Dawson’s battle with sleep apnea. There were nights when I would go to bed unsure if my baby would be okay. I would lie awake, praying that he would continue breathing. Every morning, I feared receiving a call to say the unimaginable had happened. Knowing that my son’s life could be at risk every time he fell asleep was a parent’s worst nightmare. But Dawson, with his relentless will to live, overcame that fear as well. He fought through it, and every day, we saw him grow stronger.
A Mother’s Reflection
Today, Dawson is thriving. He’s more than just okay — he’s healthy, happy, and full of life. He continues to shock his pediatrician with his progress, passing every milestone with flying colors. He talks, plays, and engages with the world in a way that makes me so proud. Every time I see him run or hear him laugh, I’m reminded of the long, hard road we’ve traveled together.
If only the scared, uncertain mama I was in the NICU could see us now. I wish I could have shown her the joy that Dawson would bring into our lives, the love and strength that would emerge from what seemed like an impossible situation. The fear and worry that consumed me in those early days now seem like distant memories, replaced with a deep sense of gratitude for every moment we’ve been given.
To All the NICU Mamas: You Are Not Alone
If you’re holding a tiny baby in your arms right now, unsure of what the future holds, please know that you are not alone. I’ve been there. I’ve felt that fear, that deep uncertainty about whether your baby will be okay. I know how it feels to watch your tiny baby struggle and wonder what their future will look like. But I also know that one day, they will surprise you in ways you never imagined.
Your baby is a fighter, just like Dawson. They are strong, and they are resilient. They may face challenges, but they also have the heart to overcome them. You may not see it now, but one day, your baby will grow stronger. They will thrive, and they will fill your life with joy and love. You can do this.
To all the NICU mamas out there, I see you. I know the long nights, the worry, the fear. But I also know that you are stronger than you think. And just like my son, your baby will defy the odds and grow into everything you hoped for and more.