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In a previous article, I shared helpful tools I acquired during my NICU experience. It also proves helpful in such a circumstance to see the humor amidst all the monotony of such a situation. With a sincere desire to bring laughter, or at least a grin to those experiencing what I have experienced, I contribute this piece.

I quickly discovered during my time in the NICU that some babies are there on account of scandalous and intriguing matters. To help ease the monotony and sorrow of my own situation, I became very astute to try my best to overhear the juicy situations of those around me. By doing so, it became quite an entertaining venture for me day to day.

Let me tell you about the baby, that had not had one visitor, because he was in the midst of a custody battle with is parents, since the mother was not sure of the real father. So, when the father came to pick up the baby, my mouth gaped open to discover the outcome of the hearing. I was literally gaping as well, because my husband, ashamed of my blatant staring, shook me to avoid the obvious nature of my eaves dropping. It was sometimes better than television.

On another note, to my closest acquaintances, I am not admired for my coordination in comparison with most people. It created quite a nervous response to understand that I would be holding, caring for, or even being in the same room with a baby attached to so many wires necessary for his continued survival. I am thankful, and surprised, that no serious circumstance transpired, however, there were several comical ones.

The incubator that held my son had little arm holes accessible on the side, just by pushing a latch and opening the door. This allowed you to hold his hand, change his diaper, or whatever while not allowing all the heat to escape. What I failed to recognize was that these doors were also spring loaded. So I push the latch, take no care of the door itself, and allow it to smash onto the monitors next to it with a loud bang.

I then noticed that my poor son, in the commotion, had grabbed his oxygen tube in a death grip of his entire three pounds, and was lifting them over his head. His heart rate was feeling the effects as well. As his nerves calmed down, I unlatched his hands from the oxygen cords, and explained gently to him that such instances need to be expected from now on if he is to have me for his mother.

Proceeding my next comedic comment, it must be stated that the nurses of the NICU far outrank all those within the category of mankind. On occasion, I noticed that when giving advice based upon their own experiences in caring for children, their suggestions often proved contradictory to each other. Mind you this excludes medically necessary elements, but pertains only to their personal manners.

For example, in burping the baby, one nurse cautioned me to lightly pat his back without moving him around and then put him down in his crib immediately so he wouldn’t throw up or get an upset stomach. When the next nurse was burping him, she said to throw him up in the air, bounce him up and down, while spinning in circles, and rubbing his head. I shouldn’t have to tell you that I have acquired my own method in this matter.

I have forty-five days worth of witty tales that I could continue in sharing. Firstly, all foreign doctors that sputter the extensive medical terms in thick accents, ensuring my misunderstanding. Plus the cleaning lady who seemed to invade me everytime I was in the breast pumping room, aside from the ocupado sign. Anyway, whether you are still going daily to the NICU or only see it as a vague remembrance like me, I will leave it to you to create your own humor out of the idiosyncrasies of the NICU.