At some point I need to be completely honest with myself and others, that I am struggling. I can't begin to explain what it is like to have a baby and not be able to care for it like you should, that you are limited to touching your own child and a holding is the highlight to the day. I never expected to be welcomed to motherhood like this and while I struggle in my own way I know the real person to struggle is Cooper. While he is moving along and has ups and downs, Cooper in all reality is fighting for his life. Even though Cooper doesn't seem to have any "major" problems now, the chance of infection, continued breathing support, more blood transfusions and more are always a chance especially since he was born so early.

I couldn't begin to explain what it is like to walk down the hallway of a NICU, and never knowing what to really expect when you walk into your own child's room, or the doctor or nurse saying, "We have bad news." Or the simple guilt you feel for leaving. I can't stand any of it, and I thought I was a lot stronger than I really am. I have never in my life cried so much. I cry when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am frustrated and sometimes for no reason. I just cry. I can't always explain it, it just happens. I feel sad when I see mother's leaving the hospital with their babies or even just hearing a baby cry is something I want so bad that Cooper can't do yet. Yet, I cry when I can hold him, hum to him and rock gently, I cry getting good news at the hospital.

I struggle every single day. Our lives were completely turned upside down when our miracle baby came into our lives. I don't regret Cooper at all, I just wish we had a little more time to prepare, but then again does life ever allow you to fully prepare for anything, especially a baby?

Even after 18 days of giving birth to Cooper I struggle with the "why us?" Why did we get handed this path? Why couldn't my body just take care of my child? Why am I putting Tom through this? Why? Why can't Cooper just be perfect? Why? I know I have to keep a positive look, and I know it could be worse, but it's hard day in and day out. Sometimes it's as though that I suffer for both Cooper and I sitting on the uncomfortable couch in his room - the fear and anxiety build up.

I try and be strong, to say "I'm okay" and that everything is "good" but some days it isn't. Some days I don't want to leave my room, eat - I just want to sleep. But I am trying to push through it. Push through it for my family, for Tom, for me and for Cooper most importantly.