Mike’s Story
Partner perspective during high-risk pregnancy.
Seven weeks on antepartum.
Followed by a NICU stay.
Balancing hospital life, work, and home.
Holding it all together for his family.
If this feels familiar, you’re not alone.
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When Morgan was admitted to antepartum, life did not stop. It just got heavier.
Suddenly our house and life were disrupted in a way that we had never anticipated. Figuring out logistics took on a new importance as I was now piloting the ship at home by myself, all while trying to keep things as normal as possible for the kids. As challenging as it was, I was the lucky one that got to tuck the kids in bed each night, while my wife had to live at the hospital.
Packing lunches. Finding library books. Making sure the kids had what they needed for school, sports, and everything in between. The morning rush of getting the kids out the door to school or grandma’s house would then give way to the daily drive to the hospital. Each day, I would go up to Morgan’s room, check in with her about the latest developments since the last time we spoke, and then try to focus on work amidst the steady stream of check-ins by nurses, doctors, and other visitors.
I couldn’t have survived without the incredible support of our friends and family, especially our moms. They were with the kids during the day so I could be with Morgan. I was so grateful for their help everyday. I could not imagine how much more challenging this experience would have been if we did not have that kind of support.
Some days at the hospital were calm. Other days were anything but, as placenta previa can cause complications, the timing of which are unpredictable.
I remember being in the room during emergencies for more than a few of Morgan’s roommates on the other side of the curtain, and passing doctors and nurses rushing in the hallway between antepartum and labor & delivery. All while hoping that emergency doesn’t happen to your wife and your baby. You try to stay composed because that is what she needs, but inside you are just hoping everyone makes it through the day safely.
Over time, the routine became familiar. I tried to focus on thinking about life one single day at a time. The emotions I was facing were complicated. Trying to support my wife through the most difficult time of her life, while comforting the kids who noticed the anxiety in our voices and took on a bit of worry themselves. I was trying to manage my own feelings, as my mind pulled in opposite directions, wanting my wife to come home as soon as possible, but also knowing the best thing for the baby was her to stay pregnant and in the best possible hands in the hospital.
The kids handled it better than I expected. They adapted. They found ways to be themselves in a place that felt scary and unfamiliar. Watching that made me proud, but it also reminded me how much they were carrying too.
There were nights after they went to bed when the house finally got quiet and the reality of it all hit. You realize how much you are trying to hold together at once. But you also realize what really matters. Each day I would be grateful that we had made it another day. Another healthy day for Morgan and baby, another day closer to all being together at home again.
Supporting someone through a high-risk pregnancy is not just about being there for the big moments. It is about showing up every single day. Keeping life moving at home. Being steady when things feel uncertain. Doing whatever needs to be done without overthinking it.
I could call my wife a superhero, but that is putting it too lightly. She kept our family together as she always does. She gave our kids everything they needed, even when she couldn’t be with them. I will always admire her perseverance, and I continue to be inspired by her everyday.
Those seven weeks were exhausting.
They were stressful.
But they also showed me how strong our family is.
Sometimes strength looks like big medical decisions and emergency situations.
Other times it just looks like getting everyone out the door on and up to the hospital to visit before rushing back home again for bedtime.
Either way, you just keep going. One day at a time.
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