Owen Durmon

My husband rushes to St. Michael’s Hospital, and I give birth via c-section, to my 2 pound, 8 ounce miracle.

I only laid eyes on Owen for a few seconds before the nurses immediately tried to intubate him, which he fought, and ended up with only a c-pap machine. He was labeled “limp” and received an Apgar score of 2.

This is where our NICU journey began. Which honestly, used to be my biggest fear. How could I leave my baby in someone else’s hands? How can I live without him being home with me? Without all four of us under one roof?

Our rocky journey of pregnancy definitely helped me to let go. I am a type A person. If you know, you know. But I clung to God’s promises, I leaned on my friends and family, I still had a toddler to be there for, and I was comforted by other mamas who had traveled the same road. The song “Into the Sea, or It’s Going to be Okay” by Tasha Layton, frequently played on repeat. Journaling our adventure also helped.

Once you become a NICU mama, you realize no other mom truly understands unless they were once a NICU mama. It just is what it is. I remember browsing on Instagram, looking at a few families’ old posts of their nicu life and stories, just to give me some sort of comfort. If they did it, I can do it. Several mamas messaged me on Facebook which also gave me comfort. This is why I share our story. My story. My testimony, and ultimately, Owen’s Adventure.

I wasn’t able to hold him until he was about 3 days old. He was a feisty, red-haired little boy. You think you know everything about having a baby until you have a baby in the NICU. I felt like a first-time mom all over again. I was so nervous to do anything on my own. I mean, the entrance into the NICU was intimidating enough. Your door code, washing your hands like you’re prepping for surgery, putting on a clean gown over your clothes, and then you circle around to your tiny miracle with so many wires and beeping. It was a lot and it IS a lot.

I remember after getting bad news after bad news, and having a conversation with my regular OBGYN, I told him, “I think he is going to surprise us all and be okay.”

Of course, I had days where I would just cry all day. Not wanting to get out of bed. I already deal with anxiety and depression, so my situation obviously didn’t help my mental health. But I clung to this one Bible verse, Matthew 17:20, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing is impossible for you.”

We kept our faith. We prayed more than we ever prayed before. We had our community surround us and pray for us as well. And God did it. He moved EVERY obstacle. EVERY mountain.

And Owen lived. He grew. He survived.

We lived the NICU life for a total of 42 days.

It was HARD. Covid protocols didn’t allow anyone in the NICU besides my husband and I, so his sister didn’t get to meet him until we brought him home. It was difficult to juggle caring for my baby who was at home, letting my body rest and heal from surgery, and also driving 30 minutes every day to spend a couple of hours with Owen during his “touch times.” I felt like I was living two different lives.

But there were things that made NICU life not SO hard. Like the nurses. Let me tell you, they are ANGELS ON EARTH. I could NOT do what they do. I loved every single one of Owen’s nurses and eventually became friends with them. You can’t help but love the people who are caring for your tiny, vulnerable child. What a humbling experience. You want your baby home with you, but you also know they are in the best place possible, in the best hands. Those 42 days also gave my body a chance to heal, and SLEEP, before bringing him home, while still being on that NICU schedule. If you know, you know.

Even if your baby has to stay there for 1 day, it’s not an easy road. I tell you what though, I learned a lot, and not just about my baby’s medical needs or condition, but I also learned to be more empathetic. Be more empathetic to those who have traveled this road before or are currently traveling it. Be more empathetic to those whose babies didn’t survive or had worse health conditions than what Owen has. If I could change anything about him, I wouldn’t. I am not the same person before I went to that 20-week anatomy scan appointment, and I never want to be.

Owen had a fairly “easy” NICU journey. Despite what all of the doctors had told us, he was growing and thriving, and he eventually graduated after gaining enough weight and being able to regulate his body temperature on his own.

Life After:

 Immediately after being released from the NICU, we started our journey of Owen getting SEVERAL accessories:

  1. Eye patch & eye drops for his left eye turning inward
  2. Helmet to reshape his head
  3. Seeing his neurologist & learning more about his brain
  4. Going to physical, speech, and occupational therapy twice a week
  5. His gait trainer
  6. Feeding tube
  7. How uncomfortable I am in hospital settings*

Today, at 3 & ½ years old, he is FINALLY walking and talking in sentences!!! It was a long road to get here, but so worth it. Now we are working on “perfecting” his walk, as he takes really wide steps and is still a bit wobbly like a one-year-old just learning to walk. But he is getting there and has worked so hard!

Have yall ever bargained with God? Maybe it “worked,” but God added some humor in it.

I remember telling God, please just let him be big enough to survive outside of the womb and I will be okay with facing ANY obstacle we get thrown at us.

Those hard days that you and I have experienced or are experiencing, are molding us and making us more like Christ. It changes us. We see the world differently. We see our children differently. We celebrate the wins, no matter how small. We look at our children in awe, knowing how hard they had to fight just to be here. How much they have to work on catching up? We are not the same as we were before, and I am grateful for that.

Since Owen, I have felt God push me to share his story. Share the good, the bad, and the ugly. I have shared a lot on my personal Facebook, but I was led to create an Instagram specifically sharing Owen’s story. It’s called Owens Adventure Mama. I know it is my calling to share God’s goodness through Owen. About what a miracle he is. I pray that I give hope and comfort to those who are going through something similar or who did. We are not made to walk through this life alone, and if his story just helps one person walk through their adventure with faith as small as a mustard seed, it was all worth it.