Frankie’s Story: A NICU Journey of Grief, Grace, and Graduation

Photo: Baby Frankie, a former Neonatal Intensive Care patient, now thriving baby. 

On August 21, 2025, at 34 weeks and two days, baby Frankie entered the world screaming — a sound her mom, Cierra, described as “the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.”

 “After everything we had been through, that cry felt like hope,” she shares.

Frankie was born premature and admitted to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) at Brantford General Hospital. NICUs specialize in caring for babies born early, underweight, or with medical complexities. Our team of specially trained nurses, respiratory therapists, doctors, and allied health professionals provide around-the-clock monitoring and support. From breathing assistance to temperature regulation, and feeding support and developmental care, they support fragile newborns to grow stronger each day.

Despite arriving six weeks early, Frankie proved she was ready to fight. She didn’t need any type of breathing support, which felt like a ‘small miracle’ as Cierra says. During her 14-day stay, Frankie needed only minor interventions: one dose of caffeine to treat apnea of prematurity (a common condition in babies born at her gestational age) and a nasogastric (NG) tube to ensure she could receive full feeds, getting all the nutrients she needed without exhausting herself.

An NG tube is a thin, flexible tube inserted through the nose into the stomach to help babies who are still building the strength and coordination needed for feeding. For premature infants, feeding can burn more calories than they take in, so this support helps them grow safely.

True to her determined spirit, Frankie eventually pulled out her own NG tube and transitioned to full oral feeds, as if to say, “I’m ready to go home.” On September 4, 2025, she did just that.

But this family’s’ NICU journey was layered with more than prematurity.

Just one year earlier, Cierra and her husband Wesley sadly lost their son after a traumatic NICU experience at another hospital.

 “Walking back into a NICU was something I never imagined I’d do again,” says Cierra. “The team at BCHS knew our history, and while I believe their compassion would have been the same regardless, this stay felt redemptive. Healing, even.”

Family-centred care is a cornerstone of BGH’s NICU. Parents are not visitors — they are partners in care. From diaper changes and bathing, to feeding and skin-on-skin contact, our team encourages families to take an active role, building confidence before discharge.

“No one wants to be in the NICU — but if you have to be, this is the kind of place you hope for,” Cierra shares. “The nurses encouraged us to be Frankie’s parents. They stood beside us like training wheels, gently supporting us as we relearned how to trust that this was our baby to care for."

One nurse who left a lasting impact was Liz Almeida, a now-retired Registered Nurse who worked in the NICU at BGH.

“She went above and beyond,” says Cierra. “She took the time to sit with me while I learned to breastfeed, offering practical tips and reassurance. When I felt frustrated during a bottle feed, she showed me a different way to hold Frankie — small adjustments that made a world of difference. Her patience and passion weren’t just clinical; they were deeply human.”

Consistency in care also made a difference. The family was fortunate to have Dr. Uthayalingam, Pediatrician, as part of Frankie’s team for an extended stretch. “That consistency allowed a relationship to be built,” Cierra explains. “Dr. U went out of his way to include me in Frankie’s daily rounds, made a point of introducing himself when family visited, and always made time for our questions.”

August 28 was a very challenging day for the family, as it was the anniversary date of losing their son — an understandably heavy day. “Despite being extremely emotional, I spent the day in the NICU holding Frankie and telling her about her big brother,” shares Cierra. “Dr. U came into the room and understood it was a very emotional day, offering compassion and support. In that moment, I knew he didn’t just see a chart or a patient. He saw a mother.”

That kind of care changes you.

Bringing Frankie home, Cierra says, wasn’t “sunshine and rainbows”, but it was everything.

“The training wheels came off and we entered the ‘newborn trenches’ — sleepless nights, endless feeds, learning as we went. But we got to bring her home. That is something I will never take for granted.”

Frankie doubled her birth weight shortly after she graduated from our NICU, moved from preemie clothing into 0–3 months, and is meeting her age-adjusted milestones. She smiles, engages in play and continues to grow stronger every day.

Today, Frankie is the face of our NICU Grad series — a celebration of resilience and hope. Families in our NICU are invited to have their baby’s graduation photo taken with a special purple hat and receive a certificate on discharge day — a small but meaningful way to mark an extraordinary milestone.

For families currently walking the NICU journey, Cierra offers heartfelt advice:

“Be kind to yourself. A NICU stay is not part of anyone’s birth plan. It’s okay to grieve the experience you thought you would have. It’s okay to feel angry, scared, overwhelmed — even if your baby is stable. The NICU is a rollercoaster you didn’t sign up for.”

She encourages parents to do what feels right for them, whether that means spending every possible moment at the bedside or stepping away when needed.

“If sitting in the hospital all day is distressing, there is nothing wrong with coming and going as you need. If you need to step away and breathe, that’s okay too. I encourage you to find a system that works best for everyone. Lean on each other, lean on the doctors, nurses, family, and friends. Never be afraid to ask for help.”

She also reminds parents to care for themselves.

“At the end of the day, I would encourage parents to try to go home and take care of themselves — eat nutritious food, have a warm shower, sleep in your own bed. Showing up for yourself is just as important as showing up for your baby.”

Cierra adds, “With that being said, it is valid to dread saying goodnight and leaving the hospital – there is nothing normal about going home without your baby.”

Frankie’s story began in uncertainty, shaped by grief, courage and extraordinary compassion. Today, it continues in strength — not only for her family, but for the many others who will see her purple graduation cap photo and feel a little more hopeful.

“If sharing her journey helps even one family feel less alone while they sit beside an incubator or hospital crib, then that means everything to us,” says Cierra.

Cierra adds, “To the NICU team at BCHS — thank you. You didn’t just care for our daughter. You cared for us. And in doing so, you helped rewrite our story.”