Some experiences require to be written in the moment in order to fully capture the reality. And then some require to be processed, to be examined, in order to be fully digested.

I couldn't recount our experiences in the NICU until now. Those 25 days felt endless – if I thought too much about them, I'd spiral into anxiety and fear.

But now, almost a year later, I can look back and see how they shaped me. How they broke me and rebuilt me into someone stronger.

The NICU is a strange place. It's a place of extremes – the highest highs and the lowest lows. You celebrate every small victory (a gained ounce, a stable oxygen level) and mourn every setback.

You learn to pump breast milk at 3am while your baby lies in an incubator. You learn to advocate for your child in a way you never knew you could. You learn that you are stronger than you ever thought possible.

And you learn that it's okay to not be okay. That asking for help is not weakness. That love, in its purest form, is showing up even when it's hard.

Those 25 days were the hardest of my life. But they also gave me something precious: perspective. And for that, I'm grateful.

– Carmel