If you haven't experienced the busy, high-tech world of a NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) before, this description will hopefully give you a glimpse:
You are permitted into the NICU by the front end staff (only 2 per child allowed in at a time). As you enter, you will see a ward filled with competant staff responding to the needs of each baby. James, like many premies, had his incubator complete with CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure), an IV line with various electrolytes, proteins etc., regulated temperature, a billy light for jaundice, NG feeding tubes and a variety of other medical devices that I won't even pretend to know much about. The goal of the incubator was to simulate the environment of the womb. Since it has been just over one year since James was in the NICU for a total of 66 days (including Rouge Valley Centenary), I have had some time to reflect on the experience. I've come to view the NICU as a world in limbo. It is like a portal of life surviving in-between opposing worlds. It is not the womb, but it tries to be; and it is not the world outside the womb either, as the incubators and medical staff try to prepare each baby to become as independent as possible.
The buzzing and beeping of a variety of monitors are as constant as the birds chirping in the morning. The whole scene of babies in incubators and teams of people serving their every need around the clock is overwhelming. As a parent, you are immediately struck with a sense of dread knowing that none of the narratives of these little babies went as expected. Shit happens. The cards that these little babies were handed in life were not shuffled fairly. There is a tangible weight of serious concern that rests on the faces of any of the visitors to the NICU. There is also an unspoken bond between the parents and caregivers that you pass in the hallways. You don't have the mental space or time to talk to those around you, but you know that they are also walking through a similar darkness, and everyone is doing everything they can to serve these little ones.
I want to highlight the staff at Sick Kids for a moment. The best of humanity can be experienced here. After experiencing the NICU and having over 20 different nurses, I've concluded that if any tourist from outside of Canada was visiting Toronto (or any local Torontonian for that matter that hasn't experienced Sick Kids) I'd encourage them to simply walk into the main atrium and observe. As you look around you will be struck with a sense of empathy and a realization that every child in this place is a fighter and has demonstrated more resiliency and courage in life then most adults. There is a culture of excellence and a spirit of collaborative diversity that brings out the best in what Toronto has to offer the world. It is a truly remarkable place. Nobody wants your child to experience the trauma that brings them to the doorstep of Sick Kids, but it is relieving to know that you are in the care of some of the most competent and prepared people you will ever meet.