As I mentioned in a previous post, my daughter Rosie was born at less than 27 weeks of gestation at the end of September, weighing just 1 lb. 6 oz. She’s still in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU), but she’s made a lot of progress, thanks in large part to the many nurses giving her 24/7 care.
As we celebrate Thanksgiving this week, I’d like to express my gratitude for the amazing work these nurses do day in and day out. There’s no way I could sufficiently describe everything they do to take care of Rosie and the other babies in the NICU, but I hope my attempt to portray some of these things provides an idea of how skilled and dedicated these special individuals are.
The doctors and nurses in the NICU make a concerted effort to minimize stimulation for the babies in their care (to mimic the environment in the womb), so they attend to their essential needs at regularly scheduled “touch times” throughout the day and night. Every three or four hours, they take Rosie’s temperature, change her diaper, start a new feeding, check her breathing apparatus, and reposition her in her bed. They might also give her a wet wipe bath or change her outfit or bedding if needed. When my wife or I are at the hospital during these times, the nurses let us help with these tasks.
At least once a day, my wife or I receive a call from one of the nurses to let us know how Rosie is doing. When we’re at the hospital, they take time to answer any questions we have, make casual conversation, and try to make us comfortable. For example, they help us get situated in a recliner so that we can hold Rosie while she’s hooked up to all the wires and tubes leading to various monitors and her oxygen supply. They help us prop up our feet, provide pillows if needed, and even get us water if we ask. (When we’re holding Rosie, we’re stuck in the chair until we put her back in her incubator.)
Speaking of the monitors and machines Rosie is connected to, they’re pretty impressive to see in action. They constantly track her heart rate, breathing, and oxygen saturation, and the ventilator she’s connected to can be adjusted to change the pressure, rate of flow, and oxygen composition of the air she’s getting. At every minute of the day and night, a team of nurses keeps an eye on those monitors — at the bedside and in a central command area of the NICU — ready to jump into action if necessary.
My wife and I have witnessed this happen on numerous occasions, but we’ve never seen any of the nurses become frantic or distressed, regardless of how many alarms are going off. Instead, they calmly readjust her breathing apparatus, clear her airway, or nudge her when she “forgets” to breathe. Their professional and caring demeanor — I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a nurse call Rosie “girlfriend” or “cutie pie” — reassure us that they have the situation under control and that there’s no need to be alarmed.
Given the demands of working in this environment, it’s no surprise that becoming a NICU nurse requires a great deal of education and training, including earning a bachelor’s degree, passing a licensing exam, and completing three months of residency at a clinic or hospital. Oftentimes, when my wife and I visit Rosie in the hospital, the nurse on duty is shadowed by a student from one of the local colleges, giving instruction and feedback to the aspiring nurse. The concern for routinely providing excellent care is readily discernible in these conversations.
While the biblical evidence for their existence is unclear, the concept of guardian angels — heavenly beings that God has assigned to watch over specific individuals on earth — is cherished within Judaism and Christianity, and it’s a source of comfort for many. As the parent of a baby in the NICU, I can’t think of anyone who comes closer to being physical manifestations of guardian angels than the nurses who work there.
This Thanksgiving, I’m especially thankful for these exceptionally caring individuals. Along with our daughter, they’re truly a gift from God.
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