She walked delicately up to the huge metal double doors. The corridor was cold and sterile. Worried faces burst through the door whispering in conversation.
A woman ran down the hall with a determined look on her face. Three men walked double time to the stairwell, the older leading the charge with the two younger following, forming an arrow darting through space.
She pushed the buzzer on the intercom.
"Yes?" the man on the other end inquired.
"Lynette Andrews," she replied.
She heard the heavy click and pushed the door open.
Feeling overwhelmed by her surroundings she quickly walked to his bedside. Looking down at this little tiny thing that looked more like a shrunken old man than a baby. Her heart was tossed out to sea and she couldn't find solid footing. Now what?
The nurse approached to give her a report as to what had transpired over the last few hours when Lynette had gone home to sleep for a few hours.
"We were able to reduce his oxygen a little, he is breathing better. He has tolerated his tube feedings and has had 2 dirty diapers. His IV has closed off again so we will need to start another one." Sue, the kind blonde nurse, explained. "The doctor's rounds will be in a few minutes and then he'll come back to discuss how things are progressing."
She was 3 days postpartum. In 72 hours she had learned, via a crash course, the 24 hour routine of the NICU. In addition, she had learned all her son's treatments, ventilator settings, feedings, and medication schedule.
Surrounded by tiny babies fighting for their lives. Watching parents as they received unthinkable news. Startling every time the medical teams sprint into action when one of the many monitors alarmed. She was teetering on the edge. Any moment she felt she would dissolve into a puddle of tears and never recover.
Another nurse with dark hair approached, heading for her son, IV needle in hand. Something changed, something clicked, Lynette jumped up from her son's bedside and blocked the nurse's way.
"No! Do not start that IV right now!" Lynette said forcefully.
"But his I.V. has clotted off and I need to start a new one." The nurse with the dark hair explained.
"Yes, I understand that but his next medication isn't for 4 more hours and he's had 5 IV's clot off already - do not put that in until it's necessary." She felt suddenly emboldened, like a lioness protecting her young.
"No, Miss, I need to do it now." The nurse was losing her patience, she had a long list of babies who needed her attention.
"No, I'm sorry, but I don't want to risk this IV clotting off before his next round of medication is even given." The young mother reasoned with the nurse.
"I was told to do it now!" The dark haired nurse said, clearly exasperated. "I'm going to go get my supervisor." She walked off in a huff.
Moments later the supervisor approached with a questioning look. "What is the problem here?" She asked patiently with a soothing tone.
"Look, my son's IV has clotted off 5 times already. He had one that clotted off before he could even receive his medication. All I'm asking is that if an IV fails that we wait until just prior to his next medication so he doesn't have to get stuck so often." Lynette explained evenly while experiencing a new feeling of power surge through her, one she did not recognize.
Her feeling of being cast out to sea amidst turbulent waters was being replaced by the knowledge, in her soul, that she would protect this little baby from anything, anyone, anytime, anywhere.
She had never known what her life's work was until this very moment. Her life's work was this child and she would dedicate herself to whatever he needed until that day he could fly on his own.
This post was inspired by Understanding Cerebral Palsy; The Most Common Motor Impairment In The Paediatric Population by 
This post is part of the BuddyUp Drop in the Ocean initiative word of the week "Dedication."
~ This is my first attempt at fiction after being inspired by all the talented writers in my BuddyUp family (Mimi's I'm looking at you!) ~
