What the NICU Taught Me About Strength, Resilience, and Beauty

Aimee Sims
Sep 9
6 min read

Our Story of Resilience

September is NICU Awareness Month, and for me, it’s not just a cause it was a huge part of my life and sometimes still is, my identity, and the reason I’ve grown into the woman and resilient mother I am today. My son Nathan spent five long months in the NICU. Those months changed everything I thought I knew about strength, resilience, and love.

When I look back, I see both the beauty and the darkness.The resilience Nathan showed as such a teeny-tiny, fragile baby, and the resilience I had to find inside myself when I thought I had nothing left to give while going through the emotions of not knowing what the next hour will bring. This blog post is for every parent who has walked through those NICU doors, every mom who has gone home and wondered how to put herself back together, and every person who has ever loved a child who had to fight for their life before they even had the chance to live it.

Life Inside the NICU

The NICU becomes its own world. The moment you walk in, the beeping, the alarms, the monitors… they don’t ever stop. There’s always a sound, always something pulling your attention. You learn to read your baby’s monitor more fluently and consistently than you read your own text messages. You live in a constant state of waiting: waiting for a doctor’s update, waiting for a surgery, waiting for the next crisis you hope won’t come but often does.

Nathan was born so early, so small… just 2 pounds. At one month old, he needed a PDA ligation aka heart surgery. I will never forget looking at my baby, hooked up to machines, his tiny chest rising and falling, fighting harder than I had ever fought for anything in my life. By the time he had his surgery he was 1.5 lbs. I’ve never been so scared for anything in my life, nothing could ever prepare me for the emotions I felt during this time. With his little teeny fingers gripping an octopus a sweet nurse knitted him.. He made it and slowly became a little stronger. During this time my baby was hooked up to ventilators helping him breathe because his lungs were too weak and under developed to be able to breathe on his own. He fought so hard. There was a time his dad was going to hold him and he stopped breathing right as he was going to lay on his chest. All the alarms went off like a wildfire, nurses running over, grabbing the ambu bag to give him manual breaths.Time froze. My whole body screamed. And then…he came back. He lived.

At two months, he developed pneumonia. Even needed multiple blood transfusions around this time. My poor love was so weak and sick, I just wanted to help him and take away all his pain and struggles.

All I could offer was being there as much as I possibly could. Between working full time, living 1 ½ hours away and being so drained in every way possible I fought to stay up until 3am just to get a visit in or be there for a feed most times. He needed his Momma <3 Nathan struggled with apnea spells; which is when you stop breathing, have a lowered heart rate and oxygen level. This happened so many times a day the first couple months.. I remember it being over 30 spells a day in the beginning. His body slowly became stronger and more resilient. It took probably 3 ½ months at this point but he still struggled with his apnea episodes. It was so exciting when we could lower the ventilator oxygen levels, the less he used the closer we were getting to his goal so he could start taking bottles! We finally got to the point of taking bottles and it was such an exciting an huge accomplishment. He struggled with his episodes even more taking bottles. It took so long to finally get to this point and to have yet another challenge was so discouraging. We just wanted to bring our baby home and live a “normal life” not a life in the hospital. With x-rays we ended up finding out he was aspirating the milk into his lungs, This wasn’t safe obviously. After a lot of researching and talking to professionals we deciding getting a feeding tube would be the best option for him. At four months old this was Nathan's second surgery, hernia and G-tube surgery. Through it all, the NICU nurses were angels on earth. They weren’t just nurses; they were healers, protectors, encouragers, and sometimes, the only people who reminded me that I was still a person outside of the NICU. They took care of Nathan, but they also quietly took care of me. They reminded me to eat, to rest, to breathe. Some of them are still in my life today, and seeing them with their own families is one of the most heartwarming things… because if anyone deserves joy and love, it’s them.

I could never thank them enough. Their strength, their compassion, their humanity are the reasons Nathan and I made it through.

When the NICU Ends, the Journey Begins

Everyone thinks that once your baby comes home, life finally gets easier. But the truth is, that’s when the hardest part began for me.

After five months in the NICU, my body and mind didn’t know how to function without the beeping alarms, without a team of professionals watching over Nathan 24/7. At home, the silence was deafening. The responsibility was crushing. My anxiety skyrocketed. Panic attacks took over my life. They were so severe, I truly thought I was dying multiple times a week with the stomach pains I would get. I went through every test imaginable, and every result came back “normal.” But nothing felt normal.

What made it harder was the lack of understanding around me. The people I thought I could lean on didn’t believe me. That broke me more than I can explain. What was wrong with me?

On top of the emotional chaos, I had to adjust to a new reality at home: visiting nurses in and out of the house, early intervention occupational and physical therapy multiple times a week, feeding Nathan through a pump for the entire first year of his life. It was all-consuming, and I struggled to find happiness in any of it. Always keeping track of Nathan’s little milestones kept me going and working towards better.

There were nights so dark that I didn’t know if I could survive them. Nights where hopelessness sat on my chest heavier than any monitor ever did.

Finding Resilience

And yet…somehow…resilience found me two. Or maybe I found it. Maybe it was always there, waiting for me to need it.

Nathan became my teacher. His resilience taught me mine. His tiny milestones became my anchor. His fight gave me a reason to keep fighting too.

It didn’t happen overnight. Healing rarely does. But step by step, I started to breathe again. I started to listen to the nurses who reminded me, ‘Take care of yourself so you can take care of Nathan.’ With better support and education I started to believe that my body wasn’t betraying me; it was begging me to slow down, to heal, to learn a new way of being.

The scars…emotional and physical, are real. The trauma doesn’t just disappear. But I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about forgetting the darkness. It’s about carrying it with you and still finding light and helping others get through their darkness too.

Honoring the NICU & Giving Back

This September & October, as I think back to those five months in the NICU, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude - for the nurses who became family, for the doctors who gave Nathan a chance at life, and for the resilience that bloomed inside of me when I thought I couldn’t survive.

That’s why I’ve decided to give back. For NICU Awareness Month, I’m donating 20% of all photo sessions to the Boston Children’s NICU. It’s a small way to honor the place that saved my son’s life and the people who reminded me that even in the darkest moments, there is hope.

To every NICU parent reading this: you are not alone. The alarms, the silence after, the panic, the heartbreak, the resilience…it’s all part of the journey. You are stronger than you know.

Nathan and I are proof that even when life begins with beeping monitors and surgeries, there is still joy to be found, still light to be seen, and still love to be lived. 💌 If you’re a mom walking through postpartum right now, whether you’re fresh out of the NICU or just trying to find yourself after bringing your baby home...please hear this: you are not broken. What you’re feeling is real. The panic, the tears, the exhaustion, the heaviness that no one else seems to understand, it doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human. You are doing the hardest work there is, and even if it doesn’t feel like it, you’re doing an incredible job. Please don’t be afraid to reach out for help, to rest, to cry, to lean on someone safe. You are not alone, and there is light waiting for you, even in this season that feels so heavy.

✨ To book a photo session and support the Boston Children’s NICU, click here . Let’s create something beautiful together while giving back to the people who give our little ones a fighting chance.