It has been a good day and tearful evening.
We rolled down for a visit early this afternoon. When we arrived, mom said hello to her resting daughter. Kinley’s heart rate, prominently displayed above her incubator, jumped up for a moment and relaxed. I rounded the corner, fresh from scrubbing in, and greeted my girls. Her heart rate rose slightly, relaxed, and she slept.
I planned our next five hours — meals, naps, walks, and all the other necessities for mom — so she could fit in a second visit. We hoped to make it for another hands on to see her active and mom told me to bring the camera this time. I was a bit embarrassed due to the sensitivity of the environment, but I obliged.
Despite our efforts, we missed the hands on. Still, I listened to mom, shook off my inhibitions, and took a few photos of Kinley. Then the nurse came over with an idea.
Mom would hold her daughter for the first time.
Standing on opposite sides of the incubator, the nurse coached mom as she slid her hands cautiously into the chamber. And then, separated for four days by an elevator, security checkpoint, winding hallways, and a thick plastic box, there they were… lifting each other up.
Kinley cried. Mom cooed and calmed her. Then mom cried and smiled. I focused on recording the moment… and cried later.
