'This is NICU' filmstar: Max (24+5 weeks)

When I watched This is NICU for the first time, it made me catch my breath.

We’re seven years on but you never really leave NICU.

The beep-beep-beep of monitors, the quiet hum of the unit, the firsts that mean everything, The Smallest Things video brought it all back. Even now, seven years on, those memories sit just beneath the surface, they never really leave you.

As both a NICU mum and now a trustee of The Smallest Things, I know how vital it is to show these moments and their impact honestly.

Dramatic start

In October 2018, our youngest son Max arrived suddenly and dramatically at 24+5 weeks, crashing into the world on his big brother Oliver’s third birthday. His chance of survival was slim, and the shock of his early arrival was so great that we barely allowed ourselves to hope. (You can read more about our story here.)

NICU is impossible to truly comprehend unless you’ve lived it. What people rarely see is the intensity of life inside the unit, the rollercoaster of fear, hope and exhaustion that defines every day. You live from one update to the next, learning a whole new language and finding strength you didn’t know you had.

Behind every incubator is a family holding its breath, balancing fear with hope, taking things one moment at a time.

Forever changed

When people talk about “bringing their baby home,” they often imagine that’s when the worry ends. But the truth is, NICU changes the way you parent forever. 

I have never quite stopped listening for the beeps or scanning for signs that something isn’t right. The vigilance, the fragility and also the gratitude for the incredible doctors and nurses – it all stays with you. 

Survival doesn’t mark the end of the journey; it’s truly the start of a new one.

Ongoing challenges

In the years since discharge, we’ve faced our share of challenges. Max has several diagnoses linked to his prematurity, and we are currently on the long wait for more. School in particular has been a difficult transition. Now 7, his milestones come at his own pace. Slower and different, but no less special. We remind ourselves that he’s only in a race with himself.

If you’re reading this from NICU right now, wondering how you’ll get through another day, please know this: you already are.

You don’t have to be endlessly strong or positive. It’s okay to cry, to sit in silence, to feel angry or numb. None of those feelings mean you’re failing, they simply mean you’re human. Take each hour as it comes. Celebrate the small wins. Rest when you can. Your baby knows you’re there. You are enough.

Seen and supported

It’s so important to show the reality of premature birth. Not only the fragile beginnings, but the lasting impact it has on families. That’s why the work of The Smallest Things matters so deeply, raising awareness, building understanding, and ensuring that every parent, carer and child who starts life in NICU is seen, supported and never forgotten.

We’re also so proud to see Max’s journey captured in This is NICU. From those first fragile weeks to the happy and determined little boy he’s become. Mostly we’re delighted that his ski “rave” made the final cut, a perfect snapshot of the joy and spirit that has carried him through so far.

With thanks to Lynne for sharing Max’s story and video for Prematurity Awareness Month 2025