I sit there trying to tune out the conversations that happen on the other side of the curtain. As I feed my baby and marvel at her miniaturized toes I hear phrases like, "morphine drip" and "not going home till after Christmas". My heart sinks. I fight back tears and realize the struggle that so many parents are faced with. I'm grateful that my struggle is not as bad as some. I'm humbled because my struggle is not as bad as some.
This place is a world all in its own. These tiny humans have good days and bad, just like the rest of us, yet theirs is all about survival. None of us want to ask the question, "when", we just want to see our babies make it past another test of strength. We know that day will come. And some of us hope that day will come. Again...tears at the thought of any parent faced with that.
Tubes and wires everywhere.
Tiny takes on a whole new meaning.
Cecelia's moment in the spotlight.
I have not stepped outside in over a week, so I'm claiming this sunset last night for Cecelia and me!