01/11/2025
PREMA YANA 🧸organise la JOURNÉE MONDIALE DE LA PRÉMATURITÉ 👣 comme tous les ans dans le hall du pôle femme enfant du CHU site de Cayenne pour informer et échanger avec les parents et futurs parents, professionnel de santé et de la petite enfance, et toute les personnes intéressées.
Pour l'occasion le réseau périnat, l'association des puéricultrices de Guyane, sonj lanmou, guyane allaitement et parentalité, Naturellement nous seront présents à nos côtés et PremaYana Normandie sera représentée sur notre stand 🫶
Nous vous préparons des surprises🩷 , atelier créatif🎀, vente de goodies au profit de l'association, un gâteau de couche à gagner☀️!!!!!
🔔 Retenez bien la date🔔
📅JEUDI 20 NOVEMBRE
🕘9h à 12h
📍hall du Pôle femme enfant du CHU site de Cayenne.
November is Prematurity Awareness Month
To the preemie mama finally taking her baby home…
You’ve waited for this day; dreamed it, prayed for it, cried for it and now, it’s here.
But if you’re honest, it doesn’t look like you imagined when you first found out you were pregnant.
You thought “going home” would mean balloons, family visits, and joyful noise. Instead, it feels quiet.
Careful.
A little bit terrifying.
You’re leaving behind the steady beep of machines that reassured you your baby was still breathing.
You’re leaving behind nurses who became family; the ones who taught you how to read every sound, every sigh, every silent plea.
You’ve spent weeks or months in that ward, learning the rhythm of your baby’s fragile strength.
And now, the silence at home feels too loud.
Mama, I know that ride home feels like you’re holding the whole world in your arms.
You keep checking if they’re still breathing.
You stare at them for hours, afraid to blink.
Every cough makes your heart drop.
Every feed feels like a mission.
You wash your hands until they’re raw, sanitizing like your life depends on it because in some ways, it does.
But I want you to take a deep breath.
You did it.
You made it through the alarms, the tests, the endless “not yets.”
You showed up every single day, even when your heart was shattered.
You stood by that incubator and whispered hope into a place that didn’t always promise happy endings.
And now, your baby is home because of your strength, your faith, your fight.
It’s okay if you’re scared.
It’s okay if joy and fear live in the same breath right now.
That doesn’t make you ungrateful. it makes you human.
Take it one hour at a time.
Let yourself feel everything ; the relief, the exhaustion, the wonder, the fear.
You don’t have to have it all together.
You just have to be here, loving that tiny miracle the best way you can.
And when you look at your baby sleeping in their own bed for the very first time; 🥹 no tubes, no wires, no machines- remember this:
You both fought for this moment.
You both earned this peace.
And it’s okay to finally exhale. 🤍
