By They came early. Not the January 30th induction, before that. My water broke at 4:47 AM on February 6th, which feels like it happened in a different dimension of time. I have been trying to write this in my head for days, which is what I do when something is too large to hold: I narrate it until it fits. Owen was born at 7:22 AM. Nora at 7:41. Thirty-one weeks. Owen four pounds one ounce, Nora three pounds fourteen. They went straight to the NICU and I did not hold them until three hours later and those were the longest three hours of my life.
Ryan did not leave. Not once. He slept in a reclining chair not designed for a man his size and ate whatever Patty brought and held my hand when the fear got loud and said with complete calm, they are okay, they are being taken care of, they are okay. He is a paramedic. He knew exactly what stable meant in a way I needed him to know. I watched him look at Owen through the incubator glass and watched his face do something I do not have a word for yet.
The NICU is a specific world. You learn the nurses names on day one. You learn what the beeps mean. You learn to read the monitors like a map of a city you now live in. Patty came every day. She brought food, containers of things that could be eaten with one hand while sitting in a NICU chair, and she held my hand without talking, which is something I did not know she knew how to do and which I will not forget. Babcia Rose came once and sat next to Owen's incubator and prayed quietly in Polish for forty minutes.
I am twenty-seven years old and I sat between two incubators thinking about Jess. About how close everything is to falling apart. About how much of loving someone is just bearing witness to their fragility and choosing to stay. Owen and Nora were fighting in their tiny efficient way, breathing, eating, gaining weight in quarter-ounce increments, and I ate the food Patty brought and talked to them through the incubator glass and told them all about the apartment and the way Chicago looks in February when everything is grey and cold and it is still, stubbornly, beautiful.
Patty brought these — or something exactly like them — in a container I could hold in one hand while the other hand rested against the incubator glass. That detail matters more than I can explain. Everything in the NICU requires one hand free, one hand on your baby, one eye on the monitor, and food that understands that. These muffins are sturdy and honest and sweet enough to feel like something good is still happening in the world, which is exactly what you need at 10 AM on day six when you haven’t slept and you’re narrating Chicago in February through two inches of plexiglass.
Oatmeal and Chocolate Chip Trail Mix Vegan Muffins
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 12 muffins
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups rolled oats
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
- 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup unsweetened almond milk (or any plant-based milk)
- 1/3 cup coconut oil, melted
- 1 tablespoon ground flaxseed mixed with 3 tablespoons water (flax egg)
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup vegan chocolate chips
- 1/2 cup trail mix (nuts, dried fruit, seeds — your choice)
Instructions
- Make the flax egg. Combine 1 tablespoon ground flaxseed with 3 tablespoons water in a small bowl. Stir and set aside for 5 minutes to thicken.
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners or grease lightly with coconut oil.
- Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the oats, flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the almond milk, melted coconut oil, flax egg, and vanilla extract until combined.
- Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined — do not overmix. A few lumps are fine.
- Fold in mix-ins. Gently fold in the chocolate chips and trail mix until evenly distributed.
- Fill the tin. Divide the batter evenly among the 12 muffin cups, filling each about 3/4 full.
- Bake. Bake for 18–22 minutes, until the tops are golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
- Cool. Let muffins cool in the tin for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. They hold well at room temperature for 3 days or freeze beautifully for up to 2 months.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 218 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 145mg