When the NICU Experience Lingers
More Than a Moment in Time
September is NICU Awareness Month. Awareness days and months help bring attention to important causes — but for parents who’ve lived through the NICU, awareness isn’t a single day. It’s woven into daily life because the NICU has a way of staying with you.
For many moms, this experience doesn’t just fade once the hospital stay ends. It can linger in memories of separation, in the weight of uncertainty, and in the ways those early days shape parenthood.
And while every NICU story is different, some parents face added layers that make the experience even more complex. For twin families, the likelihood of a NICU stay is higher. But even understanding the risks doesn’t soften the reality of living it. Nothing can fully prepare you for the mix of fear, grief, and gratitude that comes with watching your baby or babies start life in the NICU.
As a therapist who specializes in maternal mental health and as a twin mom myself, I reached out to my own community of twin parents to hear what they wish others understood about the NICU. The themes they shared extend far beyond twin families — grief, separation, gratitude, and resilience that many NICU parents will recognize.
Many of these stories began in the same place — with the moments parents expected, and the reality of what those first days actually looked like.
The Loss of First Moments
When we imagine bringing a baby into the world, there are certain moments we expect to have. The first cry. Holding them skin-to-skin. Feeding them for the first time. These are the images we see in photos, the stories we’re told, the advice we read about “bonding.”
But for many NICU parents, those moments look very different.
Some didn’t get to hold their baby for hours, or days.
Some walked out of the hospital without their newborn.
Others remember watching nurses feed, dress, or soothe their babies before they ever had the chance.
These aren’t small details — they’re milestones most parents assume they’ll have. And when they don’t happen, the impact is real. It isn’t just about missing a single moment. It’s about realizing the beginning of parenthood looks different than you imagined, and that gap between expectation and reality can stay with you.
For twin parents, this loss can feel especially complicated. One baby might be stable while the other needs critical care. Parents may find themselves holding one child for the first time while longing for the chance to hold the other. Joy and ache often arrive together in those early days.
And for many parents, the impact doesn’t stop once the NICU stay is over. Missing those first moments can bring up lingering feelings of guilt (“I wasn’t there when I should have been”), sadness at milestones (“I didn’t get the beginning I hoped for”), or reminders that suddenly bring the experience back in a way that feels sharper than expected. Some parents also notice difficulty feeling fully bonded. These reactions are common — but often misunderstood or dismissed.
From there, many parents also spoke about another reality of the NICU — separation.
Separation in the NICU
When you picture the newborn stage, you expect exhaustion: sleepless nights, endless feedings, the blur of caring for a new baby. What most parents don’t expect is being apart from their child in the very first days of life.
For parents of multiples, that separation often multiplies. One baby might be stable while the other needs critical care. Some families leave the hospital with one baby while the other stays behind. Others find themselves walking back and forth between two pods or two sets of nurses, trying to divide themselves in ways that feel impossible.
And for many families, there are children waiting at home, which adds another layer of strain — the pull between healing your own body, spending time in the NICU, and trying to show up for the kids who still need you at home.
Even when parents know these decisions are made for medical reasons — and that their baby or babies are receiving the care they need — it doesn’t erase the weight of being apart. Everything in a parent’s body is wired to keep their children close, yet the NICU often requires distance.
Parents often describe the strain of this daily separation — of not being able to be everywhere at once, of feeling stretched between the NICU and home, of constantly doing the math of where you “should” be. And for many, this isn’t something that simply fades when discharge papers are signed. Many moms and dads carry the memory of that impossible stretching, and find it still surfaces years later in moments they didn’t expect — like feeling torn when work pulls them away or when their kids both need them at once.
Alongside separation, many parents also described the fear and helplessness that stayed with them long after the NICU.
Lingering Fear and Helplessness
NICU parents often describe those weeks as some of the hardest days of their lives. And while discharge means the medical crisis has passed, the emotions don’t always end there.
Some parents remember the constant dread of the phone ringing — not knowing if it would bring bad news. Others describe the helplessness of standing by while machines and nurses provided the care their baby or babies desperately needed. Many recall the feeling of being on edge, bracing for the next update or the next setback, unable to ever fully relax.
For twin families, the helplessness can take on another layer — trying to split attention between two babies who may have been on very different paths, while knowing they couldn’t be fully present for both at once.
These feelings don’t always fade after the NICU stay ends. For many, they show up later in daily life — like feeling tense before a routine appointment, lying awake replaying “what ifs,” or bracing yourself when you think back to those early days.
And for many parents, what came after the NICU wasn’t just the weight of the experience itself — it’s how quickly others want to move past it.
When Others Want the Positive Ending
Parents often hear some version of: “At least they’re healthy now.” While usually meant to comfort, those words can land as dismissive. Gratitude for a child’s health can absolutely be present, but it doesn’t cancel out the fear, separation, or helplessness that parents went through.
This push for a positive ending can make it hard for parents to talk openly about what they’re feeling. Friends and family may change the subject, focus on silver linings, or assume everything is fine once the baby or babies are home. And when that happens, parents are left to carry the harder parts alone.
If you’ve ever felt like your NICU story was rushed past, or that you had to keep quiet because others didn’t want to hear the harder parts, you’re not alone. Many parents find themselves wishing for a space where the full story can be spoken — the gratitude and the grief, the relief and the fear.
That’s where therapy can help. It offers something many parents don’t get anywhere else: a place where your story doesn’t need a positive ending, and where all of it can be spoken out loud.
And while resilience often shines through NICU stories, that doesn’t mean the harder pieces disappear.
Resilience Without Glossing Over
NICU parents are often called strong. And yes — there is incredible strength in showing up day after day, in holding steady through monitors and updates, in carrying more than you ever imagined you could.
The truth many parents share is this: they didn’t choose resilience. They found it because there wasn’t another option. They kept going because their baby or babies needed them to.
For some, that strength came with a cost. Holding steady for everyone else while silently carrying fear. Keeping it together when they felt like falling apart. Discovering parts of themselves they never wanted to meet — the parts that only showed up because they had to keep going.
And resilience doesn’t mean the weight of the NICU has disappeared. Many parents describe moments, months or even years later, when the memories still press in — reminders that being “strong” came with an unseen burden.
If you recognize yourself in this — strong because you had to be, but tired of carrying it all alone — it may help to know you don’t have to keep holding it this way.
Finding Space After the NICU
The NICU may be behind you, but for many parents, the impact is still present — in memories, in emotions, and in the ways those early days shaped how parenthood began. Gratitude for your baby or babies’ care can live right alongside fear, exhaustion, or moments that still feel unresolved. Both can be true.
If you’ve noticed the weight of your NICU experience showing up in your daily life — in anxiety, sleepless nights, irritability, or the quiet moments when your mind drifts back — you don’t have to carry that alone. Therapy can offer a safe place to talk through the pieces others may not understand, to process what still feels heavy, and to begin finding steadier ground.
I specialize in maternal and early childhood mental health, supporting moms through pregnancy, postpartum, and the challenges that follow NICU stays. If you live in California, I offer virtual sessions so you can get support without the stress of arranging childcare or adding another trip to your week.
If you’re outside California, you’re still not alone. Postpartum Support International is a good starting place to find therapists and support groups near you.
You’ve carried so much already. You don’t have to keep carrying it the same way.
