Nearly 20 years ago, my first daughter entered the world in an ironic twist of fate over Labor Day weekend. She arrived a staggering 3 ½ months ahead of schedule, a miracle after four years of battling infertility, numerous tests, financial strain, and heartbreaking miscarriages. Our final pregnancy was fraught with challenges—daily ultrasounds, a nearly fatal ectopic pregnancy, a cervical stitch at 17 weeks, and hospitalization from 20 weeks onward. Yet, we finally had a child, albeit one that was incredibly tiny; she weighed just 715 grams at 24 ½ weeks. The emotional whirlwind of joy, fear, guilt, and hope enveloped us from the moment she was born.
After enduring an emergency heart surgery at just two weeks old and facing more challenges than we could count, October finally arrived. Our little pumpkin seemed ready to embrace the chilly autumn days, even if her experience was limited to the confines of her isolette.
To lift our spirits, our remarkable nurses had a wonderful idea. “Halloween is just around the corner. We need to find a costume for Emma,” they said.
Still bleary-eyed from sleepless nights in the NICU, we blinked in confusion. “A costume? Is that really possible?”
“Absolutely! It’s Emma’s first Halloween. She deserves an adorable outfit—a princess, or perhaps a cute kitty cat,” they suggested.
We exchanged glances, unsure of how to proceed. Craftiness was not our strong suit, and where would we even find something so small? It’s not like they make costumes in Thumbelina sizes.
A nurse directed us to a specialty toy store in a nearby county known for selling doll clothes. Encouraged by their enthusiasm, we decided to take a drive.
As we wandered through the store, we found ourselves uncertain and somewhat lost in our mission. A friendly employee approached us. “Can I help you?”
“We’re looking for a costume for our daughter,” we explained. “She was born very premature and is still in the hospital.”
With a knowing smile, the store owner said, “I have just the thing. Let’s find something truly special for her first Halloween!”
She guided us to an entire section filled with doll clothes of various styles. Overwhelmed by the options, we hesitated, trying to discern what might be suitable.
Taking note of our uncertainty, the owner patiently walked us through the choices, narrowing them down to the smallest sizes that would accommodate Emma’s wires and tubes.
And then, I spotted it—a delightful white tennis dress complete with a headband, a tiny racquet, and a miniature can of balls. As a tennis player myself, I could easily picture my daughter in that outfit.
Sensing the significance of this moment, my partner said, “Let’s get this. It’s perfect.”
Filled with an unexpected wave of joy during our drive back, we hurried to the NICU to present our find to Emma and the nurses. My partner gathered the nurses while I placed the tennis outfit in front of Emma.
“Look, Emma! You’re going to be a tennis player for Halloween. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll be playing at Wimbledon!”
Two weeks later, the moment we had eagerly anticipated arrived. The isolette was adorned with Halloween decorations crafted by the nurses, and when we arrived, Emma was dressed for her debut match.
Admittedly, the outfit was a bit large, but in her pleated white dress, she looked ready to conquer any challenge that came her way.
That Halloween, there were no tricks—only the sweet treat of witnessing our daughter poised to take on the world.
For those on a similar journey, consider exploring resources such as The Center at UCSF or our informative posts about couples’ fertility journeys and post-IVF experiences.