Comment on life and death....

Working in an intensive care nursery you know that babies don't always make it-but the difference between knowing death happens and experiencing death with a patient is completely different.

Back in October I experienced my first patient passing away. I cared for this sweet baby for a few months and had grown to love her. When I found out she wasn't going to make it I was completely thrown for a loop. It was expected yet unexpected. I cried a lot. I cried through report, I cried through my shifts with her, I cried at home and was unable to sleep. I cried because of the unjustice of it all, for the pain that she endured, and for the fighter that she is. I cried because of my fear of seeing someone die. The last two nights before she passed all I did was hold her practically unceasingly. When it became obvious that she was leaving us I held her closer and softly and tearfully whispered to her that it was ok for her to go Home, that her Heavenly Father and her elder brother, Jesus Christ, would be waiting for her. She slipped away quietly and was at last at peace.

I, however, was not at peace. I didn't realize how stressful my job was until this point. I slipped into a state of depression and anxiety that was a lot of fun to deal with. I started to have panic attacks when going to work, afraid that I would have to see one of my sweet babies not make it. Luckily through therapy I've been able to start the mending process. Which is good-because working in an intensive care nursery, babies don't always make it.

Earlier this summer I began caring for another patient that I inevitably grew to love in a short period of time. I read over her history and realized that her time on this earth would be short, but it didn't matter. I wanted to make sure that she would feel love during her stay in our unit. I spent many nights holding her and talking to her and rubbing her head which helped calm her down. I took care of her the night before she was discharged to spend time with her family at home-she had a hard day that day and slept most of the night, except for a few short minutes when she opened her eyes and smiled as I talked to her before she fell back to sleep. I'm grateful I've had those moments with her.

I attended her funeral today-my first funeral for a patient. The services were wonderful and filled with love for this sweet baby and her family. I cried through the funeral. I cried because I was able to care for such a sweet baby, I cried because I know that she was brave enough to come to earth and be given a body that was imperfect just so she could be resurrected one day and be able to live eternally with her family and her Heavenly Father, and that I know this and that makes me able to deal with the pain of loss. And I cried because I'm so blessed to work in a place where we experience these hard moments that make the good moments that much better.

And that's why I do what I do. It's not just holding cute babies (like people assume), it's dealing with life and death situations. Sometimes I come home happy and rejuvenated, but more often than not I come home and am utterly exhausted by what's occured. When I realize I've done the best I could and helped these babies feel loved and get the care they need, whether it's a happy ending or not, it's worth it and that's all that matters......