6.9.10: I lied

The nurse asked if I could feel my legs and I said yes. I lied... It didn't even feel like anything was connected from the waist down, but they did not need to know that. I needed to see my son and that is what I was determined to do. Aaron had been in the NICU all day, signing consents and watching as they hooked our son up to every wire and tube imaginable. He was nice enough to take pictures and bring them down to my room so I could see them, but that was not good enough. I had to see him. So I lied.

They brought us a wheelchair and away we went. It seemed like the elevator took an hour to decide to show up. And even longer to take us a few floors up to the NICU. We rolled up to the window where they checked our armbands and signed in. Then we had to wash our hands. Thank goodness they had a low sink, so I could stay sitting and not fall on my butt. Then they buzzed us in and we made our way to what would become our corner of the world for the next month. Tucked away in the left  hand corner of the main NICU was our miracle.

I held my breath as we got closer. Nothing could prepare me for what I was about to see. My angel, so tiny, was intubated and hooked to a ventilator. He had more lines, wires, and tubes then I could count. Even as a nurse, it was hard to see. He looked so helpless. I was terrified to touch him as I opened the incubator and reached in. I couldn't believe how little he was. So little, but so strong. I was amazed as I touched his tiny head and hands. He had the tiniest, thinnest fingers I have ever seen. When he squeezed my finger, I began to cry. It did not seem real until that moment. I knew from that moment on, that he was going to fight. He was going to make it and amaze us all.