to the women that saved my baby's life... every day

We didn't have good NICU/SCN nurses. We didn't even have great nurses. We had phenomenal nurses.

These women are incredible. They're special. They're called. They're dedicated. They're amazing They're so many things... But to me, mostly, they're heroes.

You have no idea how much your little choices in your life impacted mine.  You chose to get up every morning (or evening). You chose to drive to work. You chose to go to shift change and learn about my baby. You chose to save my son's life... every day.

When I was creating my birth plan I never thought of you.You never crossed my mind. I had never seen a NICU, I had never even imagined that you existed. I had no idea that for the first month of my son's life you would be the one caring for him. Most people have no idea what you do, they've never thought about it, much like myself before I was faced with the situation. Except now I know.

I know that behind those 2 sections of alarmed doors, behind the video doorbell security system, behind the parent scrub in station, and behind the check in counter, you pour your heart out into tiny little lives day after day.

I had no idea that you would be the one to change by baby's diaper. I had no idea that you would be the one to feed him his little bottles or rock him when he cries when I wasn't there. I never imagined that you would be the one to sit me down a week after he was born and hand him to me for the very first time. I didn't know that you would be the one to know his facial expression for when he was hungry or when he needed his diaper changed.  I didn't know you would be the one to talk to him in a soft voice when he started to get upset. I didn't know you were going to be the one.

 I was so jealous of you.

I was jealous that if you wanted to know how he was doing, you could simply look over at him. I had to call the hospital, give my 4 digit secret code, and ask you.

I was jealous that when he cried at night you were the one to comfort him.

I was jealous that you were the one to give him his first bath, give him his first feeding, and change his first dirty diaper.

In a very odd way I was even jealous that he peed on you when you changed his diaper rather than me.

Except I couldn't dislike you. Yes, I was envious... but I loved you.

Every single time I think about my little miracle's life, his story, I think about you.

I think about how you didn't just save my baby's life. In a way you saved mine too.

You taught me so much.

You taught me what it meant when Ben made a certain face, you had seen it for 12 hours day after day. You taught me how to breastfeed, even when it got hard. You taught me how to change his dressing on his omphalocele, and you did it calmly, knowing it broke my heart to have to learn that. You taught me how to feed him, how to burp him, how to hold him. You taught me his feeding schedule, you were perfect at it from your weeks with him. You taught me how to read his monitors... What a normal heart rate, pulse, and respiratory number should be. You also taught me not to obsess and stare at his monitors, but to read my baby. You taught me how do that.

You heard me.

You heard me cry over my son. You heard me pray for endless hours over him. You heard me sing to him, in my tired and raspy voice. You heard me read the same books in my same mommy voice day after day. You heard me struggle, you heard me rejoice.

You sat with me. You held my hand. You hugged me. You even cried with me. After the doctors left and I was in shock and had no idea what they were saying, you sat down beside me, looked me in the eyes, held my hand, and calmly explained everything, in words that I understood. You let me ask the same question over and over. You patiently answered the phone every hour and reassured me he was okay throughout the night.

Most people don't know what you do. They don't know you. But I do. I know that you save lives constantly. You think your job is just to save the tiny lives, but you save the grown up lives too. You helped me when no one else could.

You helped me during the darkest of days. When no one understood, when no one knew, you did. Most times you knew even better than I did.

You give your everything everyday to families in crisis. You spend 12 hours straight with 1 or 2 babies, watching over them and rushing to help them. When you're not at work you think about our babies. I've even heard you call and ask about the status of one of them while you were at home "relaxing."

I'm blown away by you.

What I'm trying to say is "thank you." Stupid words on a computer screen will never be adequate. I'll never ever be able to give back to you what you gave to me.

Thank you for teaching me, thank you for sitting with me, thank you for hearing me, thank you for listening to me. Thank you for holding my hand. Thank you for acting like it was perfectly normal for me get excited because he was finally able to be fed again or the fact that he pooped. Thank you for acting like it was normal for me to sob with you. Thank you for sending me home when you saw the dark circles under my eyes and my inability to keep my eyes open. Thank you for texting me pictures of him, even if maybe you weren't really supposed to. Thank you for choosing to do what you do. Thank you for deciding, every day, to save lives.

Most people have no idea what you do. They don't know how important you are or how crucial your role is. They have no clue that you play an incredible part in people's lives, but I do.

I know how truly amazing you are. I will never be able to tell the story of our journey without talking about you. You are a part of our miracle story. You are irreplaceable. You are giving and kind. You are selfless. You are impeccable. You are appreciated. You are so freaking appreciated. I am a better person for knowing you.

Choose joy,
Allison