after the rsv shot we decided to grab a bite to eat at a nearby restaurant. it just so happens that we know that a young couple works at the restaurant who we met in the nicu. we met them about a month before leaving the “old” nicu and felt an instant bond with them as we watched them struggle to come to terms with the ups and down and uncertainty that you’re guaranteed to experience with a 25 weeker. and even though we certainly had our share of scariness, we knew they gained some amount of hope from odin’s ability to continually fight the good fight. we did what we could to give them a sense there was hope, while always trying to remember to adhere to the single most important lesson we had learned while in the nicu; nobody can ever promise you that everything will turn out alright. nobody. ( i write this somewhat hesitantly, as i know there are many new visitors who are just beginning their own nicu journeys. )

soon after we were seated, we found ourselves engaged in the now very familiar conversation with our waitress about odin being small for his age because he was born 15 weeks early. kris casually mentioned that she knew that two of the waitresses coworkers had been in the same nicu and perhaps she’d mention to them that we wished them well.

her demeaner immediately changed as she paused, apparently trying to decide if it was appropriate to continue.

“i’m sorry, but the baby died a short time ago.”

after spending 5 long months in the nicu, the infant died, suddenly and unexpectedly the day before he was to be released from the hospital.

kris and looked at each other and odin as the words sunk in. i think it’s impossible to adequately describe the complex mix of emotions that you feel, not only as a parent, but also as a “nicu veteran”, upon hearing such news. in the nicu you learn lessons about impermanence, uncertainty and death right along side the lessons about strength and resiliance. they’re life changing, Big Lessons and it’s difficult to have the emotions associated with them come rushing back unexpectedly. needless to say our hearts go out to the family and we’re saddened by their loss.

i sometimes feel a bit odd keeping this daily account of odin’s adventures, all the more so given the fact that he’s doing so well. he is a miracle boy and we’re obviously very, very fortunate and thankful and happy to celebrate his achievements with the world. but it’s important to remember that odin’s story is unique and there are many readers who could share much different stories.

the march of dimes is the one organization that has done more than other to help fund prematurity research to help improve outcomes. if you’ve ever been moved by odin’s adventures, please consider making a contribution to the worthy organization.