Manic Monday: Colorful

(I should probably change the title of this post on days I don't get this done on a Monday, but at least I started it yesterday.)

Most of those who read this blog probably know that I'm a nurse. I'm an RN and my days at work are spent caring for babies. My shifts are split between the well baby nursery and the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) with most of my shifts lately being in the NICU. It's an interesting place to work and I learn so much every time I'm there. Upon learning where I work, most people tell me how fun it must be to hold babies all day. While I have to admit it is better than any other unit in the hospital, I only wish it was as simple as holding babies all day.

For the most part it is a happy place to work. The nursery is decorated with baby themed wallpaper, complete with a colorful border that contains teddy bears, building blocks and ABC's. The babies in the nursery are healthy and the parents are usually thrilled to have a new baby, so it's a fun and pleasant place to work. Except when it isn't. Unfortunately when something goes wrong, it's the nurse who has to break the bad news to the parent since we don't have a doctor in the nursery at all times. So little things like unstable temperatures and blood sugar issues, and even infections are primarily taken care of by the nursing staff. But there's nothing in the world like telling a parent who had the expectation of a healthy baby that there's a problem. It's even worse to see the expression on their face the first time they see their baby with an IV.

When problems are more severe or ongoing, the baby has to be taken to the NICU. The parents of full-term babies with unexpected problems seem to have a more difficult time adjusting to the idea of having a baby in the NICU than parents of premature babies. Parents of a premature infant usually have at least a little bit of warning of what's going to happen when the pregnant mother goes into labor early or has other complications making delivery necessary before she reaches 37 weeks gestation. That's not to say the parents of premature NICU babies have it easy. Their babies are sometimes so tiny the parents are afraid to touch them and often can't at first.It's heart-wrenching to watch the face of a parent seeing their baby in the NICU for the first time. Their tiny, precious baby, their whole world, attached to monitors, tubes and sometimes machines that breathe for the baby. Watching and knowing all they want to do is envelop that baby in a tender hug but many times all they can do is place their had on the warm plexiglass of an isolette, occasionally reaching in to touch their tiny fingers. And I can't imagine how much the mother's heart must break the day she is sent home from the hospital without a baby in her arms. Then the parents come to visit in half hour increments for feedings throughout the duration of their baby's hospital stay; often weeks and sometimes even months.

So that's what my job entails. I don't get to simply hold babies all day. Instead, I'm feeding babies from bottles that are almost as big as the babies themselves and changing diapers that wouldn't even fit on an average sized baby doll. I'm starting IV's in veins almost too small to see, only to see the look of sadness on the parents' faces when they see that their baby has a new IV. I'm the one called the "mean nurse" as parents reassure their screaming infant when I stick a baby's heel to check the blood sugar. I also have to be the timekeeper who tells the parents when their half hour of holding time is up and the baby needs to be placed back in their bed until the next time. Oh, how I feel like the bad guy when I have to do that.

Even thought there are many things about my job that make it difficult, it's all worth it when I get to walk a baby to the front doors of the hospital and watch the parents drive away with their healthy, growing baby. The look on the parents' faces that day makes up for everything it took to get them there.