Sometimes I really wish we could take pictures of our precious kiddos in the NICU. Yes, it would totally violate their privacy and HIPAA and all those boring legal technicalities, but I think the world at large would benefit from seeing them all dressed up in their Halloween costumes! Because nothing jazzes up IV lines and oxygen tubing and cardiac leads like a velour pumpkin outfit! Who will notice your trach when you are wearing a fluffy white lamb costume with actual hooves?? (Hopefully your nurse will notice, but it might be difficult for a minute. We are falling over from All.The.Cuteness!)

I've actually never been a huge fan of Halloween - probably because in the adult world it is a quite a bit more skank than sweet - but I think I changed my mind last night at work. These families have never had the joy of bringing their babies at home. If they've been outside, it was only for the briefest moment between an ambulance and an emergency room door. They live in a hospital . Watching their parents wrestle them into pumpkin suits and I Love My Mummy onesies made me realize just how important it is to us as humans that life goes on normally, despite overwhelming obstacles. We keep our traditions, no matter how strange. We cope with costumes.

And I will say, I think it works. I had a new patient last night whose parents were understandably overwhelmed and scared that their brand new baby boy, who had been just a perfectly healthy 3 day old, suddenly ended up in the NICU with a heart issue. They didn't know they would be able to hold their baby, now that he was attached to his leads and lines. They didn't think they could bring him clothes from home to wear. They didn't know they could change his diaper, take his temperature...basically parent him, while he was in the hospital. But I watched them stare at the family across the room as those NICU veterans figured out how to get their almost 6-month old, who comes decked out with hiflow oxygen tubing, a G-tube, and a central line, into a jack-o-lantern costume. Mr. Jack-O-Lantern posed for pictures with his parents for the next oh, hour, or so while half the unit came to coo over him, and I could see the new family visibly relax. The mom actually whispered to her husband, "Everyone is so nice here!" And then they tried to figure out what she could bring back the next day for their son to wear on Halloween. Does anyone want to be in a NICU with their baby, ever? Of course not. It's terrifying. But there is so much joy in making it a better place for our families than they expected.

I am beginning to really love what I do.

I cannot consistently update this blog! I don't know why, I think I just run out of things to say for awhile...get busy...get lazy. I love to read other blogs (maybe to the point of gently stalking?) but I struggle with my own words.

Right now it's 6:40am and I am really excited for the day shift to come in at 7am so I can go home. Not to sleep, which would be the healthy/smart/normal choice, no I am keeping my ass awake all day to celebrate Joshua's mom's birthday. (We will start the celebration with a LOT of coffee to keep me sane). It was a slow night, with a stable preemie who didn't require much hands-on care other than my assessments and one blood draw which I HATE doing because these kiddos are so tiny and every little drop counts! (Seriously. Did you know preemies have only about 90ml per kilo of circulating blood volume? This kid is only 600 grams...so he has maybe 50ml of circulating blood. And I had to take one away from him. My job is so weird).

I have only 4 more weeks with a preceptor and then 4 weeks after that with a resource person who won't be with me every minute, but will always be there during the shift if I have issues. Then I sail my own ship the week before Christmas. I'm actually starting to get excited (just like everyone told me I would) to be on my own. Although, still, it's terrifying. And I think it should be.

The day shift should be here in ten minutes. I'm thrilled.