How The Moorings Became My Anchor Through the Storm of Prematurity
Nothing can prepare you for the whirlwind that comes with giving birth to your baby 16 weeks too early. On that day, my life split in two, before and after baby S.
Baby S was born at just 24 weeks, tiny and fighting for life, after an emergency classical C-section that happened suddenly and over an hour from home. I didn’t even have time to think; she came into this world so fragile, so vulnerable, and yet so incredibly strong.
But after the surgery, I was faced with another reality. I couldn’t drive. I couldn’t just go home and come back when I needed. And home wasn’t close—our lives were rooted elsewhere. My little girl, my baby, was here—alone in a NICU incubator—and the only thing I wanted was to be near her.
That’s when The Moorings stepped in.
They didn’t just offer me accommodation. They offered me presence. Stability. Compassion. They gave me the ability to be with my daughter, to hold her hand through the plexiglass when she couldn’t be held, to sing to her softly during desaturations, to learn what each beep meant, to meet the team of people working tirelessly to keep her here.
And it didn’t stop there. I’m also a mum to a bright, beautiful six-year-old girl who still needs her mum too. Because of The Moorings, she has been able to come and stay with me on weekends. Instead of feeling torn between two children, I’m able to be present for both. It’s not perfect, but it’s possible and in this chapter of our lives, possible is everything.
Prematurity is a world that no one chooses. It’s lonely, it’s exhausting, and it demands a strength you don’t know you have until you have no other choice. It’s missing first moments because they happen in a hospital. It’s learning to read machines before you get to read bedtime stories. It’s grieving milestones that never came while fighting like hell to create new ones.
But in all that heaviness, The Moorings has been a soft place to land. Their kindness, their understanding, and their generosity has been a lifeline. It’s hard to explain the comfort that comes from knowing you have somewhere safe and warm to return to after hours in NICU. Somewhere to cry. To exhale. To be a mum.
Now, at 90 days in, baby S is stronger. She’s still in hospital, but every day brings us closer to bringing her home. And every step of that journey, The Moorings has helped carry us.
From the bottom of my heart thank you. Thank you for giving me more than shelter. You gave me presence, closeness, family… you gave me time with my baby girl when I would’ve otherwise been far away.
Julie (volunteer carer) has been one of the most unexpected blessings in this journey. From the very beginning, she’s shown up, not just with warm meals or cups of coffee, but with a heart full of genuine care. She checks in on me regularly, not out of obligation, but because she truly cares. Her presence is calm, her kindness effortless, and her humility so deeply felt that it’s hard to put into words. Julie is one of those rare souls who makes the weight of everything feel just a little lighter, simply by being who she is. I feel incredibly lucky to have crossed paths with someone so gracious, grounded, and good.
In a season of chaos, you’ve been our calm.
You have been the light at the end of a very dark and long tunnel for our family.
With love and gratitude,
Olivia, Nicholas, A and Baby S (24-weeker warrior)
