Her nurses became our family
We were overjoyed when we found out we would be blessed with our 4th child, a girl named Susannah. On September 6, right after my son’s football practice, I was washing the dirt off his face when I watched him go pale. “Mama, you are bleeding everywhere,” he said. I saw the growing red puddle beneath me, and the bathroom began to sway. My husband ran to us then and I begged God to save my daughter, the first prayer of the thousands that would come. Susannah’s placenta had abrupted.
After we arrived at Bronson Hospital, my husband was told she would have to be born via C-section immediately. Nothing prepares you for the sight of the team waiting to save your baby’s life; the urge to scream kept crawling up my throat. Then, there she was. Tiny, so tiny. I saw her move just before she disappeared behind the wall of masked people who surrounded her bassinet, the agony on my husband’s face when he watched helpless from my side and then, a noise. A loud cry from our baby and then they were whisking her to NICU. I could only lie there, wondering if the first time we saw her will stay with us always, the miles of tubing and hoses that tethered our little girl to the land of the living. The machines would beep when her heart would start to slow.
At first, those noises made me jump sure Susie was going to leave me. Then, those noises came to represent her growth. Every machine beep, every obstacle she stumbled over was another goal achieved that brought us one step closer to bringing her home. Her nurses became our family, hugging us through the falls and crying happy tears with us through the good days. The trust we felt for them will never go away, they were the therapists and friends who I love still today. Watching her through the glass of her isolette taught me what strength truly is. Learning before you even hold your child that they are already one of the strongest people you know.
Only a NICU parent can understand. We stayed 44 days at Bronson and it was the most challenging experience of my life. It changed us all forever. We learned the hard way that love, family and hope are the only things in life that matter. As I type this story, a beautiful 3 year old with golden curls is asleep in my lap and I am going to tell her – she is my hero.
