Our Little Surprise

“In 2023, my life shifted in a way I could never have imagined. At 42, I was certain I’d entered perimenopause. The flutters and strange stomach sensations felt like shifting hormones, nothing more. But life whispers before it thunders. I learned I was pregnant at 21 weeks. No symptoms, no signs, no clue that a heartbeat had been quietly growing inside me. It was a cryptic pregnancy; mysterious, startling, and full of grace.

Twenty-seven days later, everything changed again. I developed Chorioamnionitis and suddenly was delivering a baby I’d only just discovered. At 25+4, my beautiful boy arrived weighing 1 lb 15 Oz, tiny, fragile, yet fiercely strong.

The early days were terrifying. Leaving the hospital without my baby while my body prepared to nourish him felt deeply confusing. We braced for every acronym no parent wants; PDA, ROP, possible brain bleeds, chronic lung disease. The alarms, tubes, isolettes, and soft-voiced nurses became our whole world.

But so did hope. Every day Hampton fought and grew, showing us what resilience truly looks like.

Our 113 NICU days felt both endless and impossibly brief, stitched together by fear, miracles, midnight prayers, and nurses who became family. And then one day, the doors opened, and we walked out... together.

Today, Hampton is 2½, healthy, joyful, curious, mischievous, utterly alive. You’d never guess he began life no bigger than a whispered dream. He beat every odd and rewrote every expectation.

This Prematurity Awareness Month, I honor every parent sitting beside an isolette, every NICU team guiding our babies, and every tiny warrior proving that size never determines strength. Hampton’s journey began at 25 weeks, but his story is one of triumph. To any family on this path now, hold on. Hope grows, even in the smallest of bodies. “ NICU Mama, Raina