Institutionalization

in·sti·tu·tion·al·izedin·sti·tu·tion·al·iz·ing

transitive verb

1

: to make into an institution : give character of an institutionto <institutionalized housing>; especially : to incorporate into a structured and often highly formalized system<institutionalized values>

Merriam-Webster

The Special Care Nursery is a melting pot of people and their personalities. Nurses, doctors, cleaners and patients come from Korea, China, Philippines, Australia, Indonesia, Korea, Germany, Timor-Leste, and of course the US and South Africa.  We are all different, and unique.  Yet, it is still an institution, and by virtue of spending extensive periods of time confined here, we too become institutionalized to a great extent. 

For those of us known as 'the parents,' who spend countless hours glued to semi-comfortable chairs in an overly-lit room with bad coffee and never-ending noise, we are focused on one thing, and one thing only - getting out.  I imagine that if you did a psych study of parents of preemies in a Special Care Nursery some of the reactions to the environment would not be that dissimilar to inmates in a prison.  Confined to a small, brightly-lit environment with 24-hour noise, no peace or privacy, and little or no access to what goes on outside, one inadvertently start to elicit traits of anti-social, slightly paranoid behavior.  We lose track of the days of the week, what goes on in the news, and other things that were so important a few weeks ago suddenly seem much more irrelevant. 

I have numerous friends who have been incarcerated for many, many years, including extensive time in solitary confinement and am in no way suggesting that spending six weeks in a hospital is the same - rather, what fascinates me is that psychology of confinement that appears after a while without freedom.  Like the famous Stanford Prison Experiment I too definitely notice certain characteristics among the parents, and in particular myself.  I find that instead of coming in later, and being more comfortable with Luka's progress to take more time to myself, I am spending considerably more time at the hospital than in the beginning, it is like this is the only place I feel at home now.  Our friends at Wikipedia explains that institutional syndrome as the deprivation of independence or responsibility.  This is certainly to a great extent a risk in a high care nursery, where one can become so reliant on the 'experts' around who are seemingly more comfortable and skilled at handling the babies, and in diagnosing any problems - as such, there is a nascent fear amongst parents about not having someone to 'tell me when I should feed him' when we eventually go home and take our precious little ones with us. 

Our location in the General Nursery

There is also the reality of growing comfortable with the 'space' you are allocated, making any change, move or adjustment almost traumatic.  Take for instance when your preemie is in an isolette, it is like being in 'solitary confinement' and all you want is 'out'.  Then, suddenly when they remove the isolette, you have a momentary panic when that 'known' confinement is removed, and you ask yourself: 'are we ready'.  Once out, you feel lost in the much larger space of the 'General Nursery' area where your baby seems vulnerable and fragile in the open cot.  Similarly, when you are confined to monitors, all you want is to be able to rid your baby and yourself of the endless wires, switches and beeps - then, when they are removed, you feel bare and uncertain.  My friends who were incarcerated talks about living in only one room in their homes, and having to divide a room into a smaller unit to feel comfortable and safe upon release.  

'High-five' after ditching the last monitor - careful optimism

And yet, it remains this belief that we will one day go home, without monitors and special beds, that bind parents together.  Every parent in the nursery believes that his/her child is somehow special, unique and 'ahead' of the curve.  Perhaps this is true for any parent, mine certainly think I am far smarter, beautiful and amazing than I could ever even try to live up to, but in the nursery we see it every day.  Fortunately the staff are carefully trained to be sensitive not only to our emotional attachment to space, monitors and other familiarities, but also to that sensibility of progress, that belief in betterment...that crucial notion of Hope.