When you find out that your baby needs to go to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), your world shifts in an instant. Whether it’s a decision made before birth or an unexpected situation after, nothing quite prepares you for the onslaught of emotions that follows. For so many parents, it brings a huge mix of fear, sadness, guilt, helplessness, grief, and more. It’s not just duality of emotion; it’s all of the emotions all at once. This experience can take a toll on your mental health long after discharge from NICU and can seep into other areas of life, like your relationships, the way you parent, your sense of identity, and your work. The emotional impact is personal, and yet there are common threads that connect NICU parents everywhere.
I’m Dr. Frankie Harrison, a Clinical Psychologist and also a NICU parent. My first baby was born at 31 weeks, and we spent five weeks in neonatal care. I’ve experienced the impact of NICU firsthand, and now I support other parents through it in my work @miraclemoonuk.
The emotional impact of NICU
We know that so many parents are impacted by the NICU journey. Premature baby charity, Bliss surveyed parents and found that 80% of parents reported an impact on their mental health as a result of their time in neonatal care. But what is it that happens for parents? What is the emotional impact of having your baby in NICU?
Below, I’ll explore some of the emotions that arise during different stages of the NICU journey, and we’ll share real experiences from parents who have lived through it. Their stories help bring to light what it really feels like to go through neonatal care.
1. The early days in the NICU
The early days of being in neonatal care are often turbulent. There are often health complications with the person who gave birth and/or with the baby, and there are so many different feelings. For most people, you are thrown into a survival mode because the threat and the stress feel too much.
Two parents have shared their experiences with us, so we can really see the true impact of these early days.
**Charlotte Floyd
**“My baby boy was born at 24 weeks and spent 116 days in NICU. When I was first told he would need neonatal care, I was in shock and disbelief that this was our reality, but I had to put my trust in the amazing consultants, doctors, and nurses. When I first met Finley, all I felt was relief that he was alive. The first weeks are a complete blur, but particularly tough moments were seeing how quickly extremely premature babies can go from being stable to unstable. We lived in constant fear for the majority of our three-month stay in NICU. I found comfort through being at the ward rounds and getting as much information as I could about all of his needs and treatments. Being allowed cuddles and any form of ‘normal’ parenting duties was also a huge comfort.”
Katy Leedam
“I’m Katy, mummy to Finley, who was born at 31 weeks and 4 days, weighing a tiny 2lb 7oz. The news that our baby would be born prematurely came as a shock to my husband and me at a 24-week growth scan. Finley managed to hang on in there until week 31, and in those seven weeks of waiting, I felt like a ticking time bomb. When the time did come, and Finley was born, he was instantly hooked up to what seemed like a hundred wires, and his tiny face was covered with a breathing support mask when I first caught a glimpse of him. My husband and I felt waves of relief that finally, our baby was here, but we were terrified for what the next part of our journey would hold, the NICU. Nothing can prepare you for seeing your tiny newborn hooked up to all sorts of machinery inside an incubator for the first time. Finley looked so vulnerable and fragile, I was frightened to touch him. At first, every alarm would make me jump and panic; I was stuck in fight-or-flight mode for the six weeks he was in the NICU. Nurses would ask, ‘And how is mum today?’ I’d reply with, ‘I’m ok,’ when really all I wanted was to go to sleep and wake up when this nightmare was over and my baby was home. Of course, that wasn’t an option, and despite being mentally and physically exhausted, I took my place as his mummy, cot-side every day for 42 days. Nights were the worst. It felt unfair and unnatural to leave him, and my body ached for him. We swapped bonding squares every night so we had the scent of each other, but nothing could hide the fact that I left my heart in the NICU every night.”
Shock and disbelief
For many parents, the NICU journey begins with a huge shock. NICU isn’t something you’re prepared to consider, but for 1 in 7 families, it becomes a new reality. There’s a sense of disbelief in those early moments; how is this happening? This response is completely natural. Shock serves as a buffer, giving us space to take in overwhelming news gradually and to make sense of what is happening to us.
Relief mixed with constant fear
Seeing your baby for the first time often brings a wave of relief—they’re here, they’re alive. But that relief can quickly shift into something much heavier, a feeling that you’re constantly on edge, waiting for the next alarm, the next update, or waiting for something to go wrong. NICU parents often feel like they’re walking on eggshells, holding their breath through each day, not knowing if things could change in an instant.
Fear becomes a constant. The alarms, the sudden shifts in health become familiar but never less frightening. The NICU keeps that fear close, with beeps and monitors that pull you back into alertness over and over. This “fight or flight” state is how our minds and bodies respond to potential threats, but in the NICU, where the environment is designed to keep everyone on high alert, it’s exhausting. For many, that constant vigilance wears you down but feels impossible to turn off, even long after you leave NICU.
Finding comfort in small acts of connection
Adjusting to this new world means redefining what you expected becoming a parent to look like. In the NICU, it’s about finding comfort in the little ways you can show up for your baby, being there for the daily updates, touching your baby when you can, swapping bonding squares so you can keep connected when apart. These small acts can help you feel connected to your baby, even in a setting that might feel far from the experience you imagined. These moments matter. They remind you of your bond, help you feel like their parent in the middle of all of the medical routines, and can give you something solid to hold onto in the NICU.
2. The ongoing emotional rollercoaster
For many parents, the NICU journey can be incredibly long, weeks, even months of uncertainty and emotional highs and lows. It's often described in the NICU community as a rollercoaster, and for good reason. You’re constantly riding the ups and downs, sometimes feeling like you’re making progress only to be pulled back again. For me, it felt like a rollercoaster with my eyes shut, not knowing which way it was going to turn next. Our next parent shares her experience of the ongoing emotional rollercoaster of NICU.
Hollie Semmens
“My experience during my baby girl’s NICU stay was an emotional rollercoaster filled with intense highs and devastating lows. After her birth via emergency C-section at 29 weeks because we had both become gravely ill due to pre-eclampsia and HELLP syndrome, I naively thought that would be the hardest thing. However, the hardest moment came when I had to leave her behind after just eight days, which felt like an unbearable physical pain. The nights spent expressing milk without her were among the darkest times, yet I found solace in knowing my milk was making her stronger. The strain on my marriage was significant at times; the NICU’s tedious atmosphere and our exhaustion stripped away the newborn joy we had anticipated. I struggled with my own recovery from surgery and the pressures of being a first-time Mama in such challenging circumstances. However, the incredible support from nurses, family, and friends was invaluable. I faced terrifying moments, like the time my daughter suffered a bradycardic episode, which left me grappling with intrusive thoughts and fears of never bringing her home. To cope, I started sharing daily updates on Facebook, which helped me feel connected while also managing the overwhelming requests for news. Accepting help, like meals and errands from friends, made a significant difference. Ultimately, I learned that it’s okay to acknowledge the difficulty of this journey, and all that truly matters is focusing on our tiny family and the milestones we celebrated each week. Bringing Beatrix home on Valentine’s Day after 40 days was the best day of my life and the start of a new chapter.”
The pain of separation and self-neglect
For many parents, the forced separation from their baby is one of the hardest parts of NICU. The instinct to stay close to your newborn is primal, and when that’s interrupted, it can feel like a part of you is missing. Being made to leave, whether to go home or stay on a maternity ward, feels unnatural. Many NICU setups don’t support parents staying full-time, which leaves families torn between wanting to be close and needing to take care of themselves.
Parents often find themselves torn between caring for their own health and staying close to their baby. Many are still recovering and need medical care on the maternity ward, but the pull to be by the NICU incubator is overwhelming. This often leads them to skip meals, miss medications, or even delay their own check-ups to stay with their baby. The choice between tending to personal needs or staying bedside creates a deep sense of guilt and sadness, whether from missing precious moments with their child or neglecting their own recovery. The emotional strain can be intense.
Shattered expectations
The expectations of “enjoying every minute” of parenthood often clash with the reality of NICU. Many parents expect a rush of love and joy, only to find themselves overwhelmed by fear, sadness, or guilt instead. This can bring a painful sense of failure, as though you’re doing something wrong if you’re not feeling pure happiness. It’s important to know that if you are not enjoying these moments, that is OK, this is hard, and it is OK to say that it is hard right now.
Holding onto hope
Despite the constant fear in NICU, many parents hold onto hope—a vision of bringing their baby home. Celebrating small wins, like a stable day or a successful feeding, becomes so important. These moments of progress, however small, help keep that hope alive, giving families something to focus on through the fear.
The value of connection
The NICU journey can feel isolating, but connecting with others can make a big difference. Accepting help, whether it’s a meal, an errand, or someone to sit with you, can make the load feel a little lighter. Sharing with friends, family, or other NICU parents eases the weight of the experience. Reaching out, letting others in, and simply allowing yourself to lean on support is so important in NICU life.
The transition home after NICU
Bringing your baby home from NICU can be, you guessed it, a time filled with mixed emotions. For many, it’s a moment of relief and excitement, but it can also bring a sense of fear and overwhelming responsibility. Without the constant support of NICU staff and monitors, parents can feel out of control. Many find themselves clinging to coping tools they developed in NICU, frequent checking, monitoring, seeking reassurance, avoidance, or ramping up hygiene routines to manage the anxiety of having their baby home. Emily and Jenna have kindly shared their experiences with us.
Emily Forsyth“My son Raffy was born via emergency C-section at 33+1 weeks due to placental abruption and scar rupture. Weighing 4lb, he was in NICU for 2 weeks. I never told anyone, but I was absolutely terrified to bring him home. I felt safe in NICU. The first night I didn’t sleep as I kept checking he was breathing. I felt overly neurotic, making sure any visitors had no signs of illness and had thoroughly washed their hands. Returning to hospital for pneumonia 4 months later spiralled me; I felt totally out of control, and this brought on 2 months of monitoring by speech and language due to concerns for milk aspiration. It just felt completely overwhelming that yet again, I couldn’t help him. Compared to my firstborn, I am so much more anxious with him and am dreading the next few months with the seasons changing. I just have to keep reminding myself that he’s bigger and stronger now.”
Jenna Mitchell“Our baby was born unexpectedly at 35 weeks via emergency C-section; he had to be resuscitated multiple times and was taken straight to a different hospital without me. We came home after 2 weeks to our 2 older children. I was so excited to get home and get back to ‘normal,’ but the truth is, your ‘normal’ changes forever once you’ve experienced NICU. I didn’t take him out for 6 weeks; I was too scared, I couldn’t even do the school run 2 streets away. I was terrified that he would get ill, and we’d lose him. Eventually, I felt stronger, and life began a new normal. Even now, 2 years on, I’m fiercely overprotective of him. When you’ve stared the death of your baby in the face, there’s no easy way to come back from it. I find the lead-up to and the period around his birthday very triggering, replaying the events as they unfolded and the days that followed. I try to be open and talk about my experience because I feel it’s the best way to normalise it both for myself and others.”
Health anxiety after NICUHealth anxiety is common for parents after NICU. In our community, 98% of parents report struggling with worries about their own or their baby’s health. The NICU experience is filled with close calls, alarms, and daily health updates, and those memories can leave parents feeling anxious long after discharge. Many find themselves checking, continuing to monitor, reassurance seeking excessively, avoiding public places, or limiting contact with others to reduce the risk of illness. This vigilance, while instinctual and understandable, can feel exhausting and unhelpful.
NICU trauma and hypervigilanceFor many parents, trauma from NICU experiences lingers long after leaving the hospital. Around 40% of NICU parents experience symptoms of PTSD, and many more experience trauma. The memories of alarms, medical emergencies, and the intense emotions of NICU can make it hard to fully relax or feel safe, even at home. This trauma can lead to hypervigilance, with parents remaining on high alert for signs of trouble, always anticipating the next crisis.
Changes in identity after NICUThe NICU experience creates a “before” and “after” version of many parents. Priorities, values, and beliefs can shift dramatically, changing how parents see themselves, their relationships, and their role in the world. This change in identity may affect friendships, work, and family dynamics. Adjusting to this new self can take time and may bring feelings of loss for the life you once knew.
Common triggers of NICU traumaCertain events can trigger intense memories or emotions related to NICU. Birthdays, returning to work, starting childcare, or considering having another child can bring these feelings to the surface. For many, these moments act as reminders of the trauma they experienced, sometimes resurfacing memories or emotions they thought were behind them. This can be especially true in the first year after NICU when parents are still adjusting and may feel like they’re living in survival mode.
Finding support through connection and groundingThe journey of adjusting to life after NICU is not easy, but there are ways to find support and relief. Staying grounded in the present and recognising what is different now can help ease anxiety. Talking openly about your experience, whether with friends, family, or other NICU parents, can help reduce feelings of isolation. Connecting with others who truly understand the experience can be healing and can provide validation, comfort, and a sense of shared strength.
About the author
Dr Frankie Harrison is a Clinical Psychologist, NICU parent, and co-founder of Miracle Moon and The NICU Space. Her journey into supporting parents who have been through neonatal care began from a personal place, her own unexpected NICU experience in 2019, when her baby was born at 31 weeks. This experience fuelled her passion to create a compassionate community where NICU parents could find support, feel seen, and know they’re not alone.