And just when I thought it couldn't get better...

I had the best day today... an emotional high from early this morning well through getting home this evening. Starting at the beginning... (because generally that's a good place to start)

When I got to the unit and pre-rounded on the babies I'm following, everybody looked good. I made the decision that I thought one was ready to come off CPAP, and cleared it with my attending. Yay for tube-free babies!
Then I went to look up labs, xrays, etc to prepare for rounds and was talking to one of the residents when I found out that not only were none of them on call today, the three that were there this morning had clinic in the afternoon. This means there was a lonely little delivery pager going to be sitting all by itself.... or not :)

Clipped the pager on about 8:30... finished prerounds and plans and started rounds. We were about halfway through when the pager went off for the first time. Off to the delivery room. Big baby, fairly healthy, just a little extra work of breathing. After watching him for a while, the NNP decided to send him on to the transition nursery. The rest of rounds went by without issue and we got done really early.

My amazing mentor/attending then called to take me to lunch for my last day :) We had a great lunch and then went over my presentation for tomorrow, giving it the final touches. I told her I wanted to hang out in the unit for a while and see if anything interesting would happen because the delivery board was full and several of them were preemies.

Went to check on the twins and ok'd mom holding... for the first time. This was what I thought would be the most inspiring and rewarding moment of my day. Then.....

Got settled at my desk about two to review test results and... beeep.. 911. That means RUN, not walk, not elevator... scale the stairs two to three at a time. When I get in the room, it's just me and the delivery nurse... and in runs the resident OB with a tiny bundle. On the warmer is delivered the smallest person I've ever seen. For what seemed like an eternity, I got the initial heart rate and had the fleeting thought of fear as an NNP hadn't responded yet. Thankfully, she was there almost as soon as the thought went through my head. I gladly stepped back from the head of the bed on that one and had her take over for the intubation, assuming a first-assistant role. Fast forward through all the medical details and you'll be pleasantly surprised to know that AMAZING child, God's perfect creation, looks more alive than anyone ever thought possible. A fighter, we say. And even though the odds are stacked against him, this part deep inside of me is almost sure he'll make it.

As he's settling into his bed and I'm beginning to catch my breath, beeep... 911. Adrenaline rush, straight back to the second floor. This one we at least beat to the room. A little bigger, a little stronger. But still tiny. Heart rate, intubate. And in the meantime, realize the child's head is bleeding... profusely. Stitches in the resuscitation room? Has that ever been done? The prayers go up. Pressure is applied, the intubation is complete, we watch and wait. The bleeding slows and the baby improves. It's off to the transport incubator, and down to meet the new friend across the hall, who was born less than an hour before, 7 weeks more premature.

As I signed out tonight, returned the delivery pager to the front desk, and said a few goodbyes, I found myself less sad than I thought I'd be. Maybe because I was exhausted, but maybe because God allowed me to have an amazing last day, showing me how much work He's done in me this summer and the endless blessings He has in store. This time last year, I said I wanted to be a neonatologist and save babies. Now I've tried my hand at it. Is it stressful? Of course. Trauma-heavy? Definitely. Hardcore? Some say so. Devastating? Some days. Rewarding? Everyday.

I may not be spending 8-10 hours a day in the NICU in the coming months or years, but I'll be there as much as possible... and my heart will never leave. I carry a tiny footprint to remind me of what's on the other side.

This IS the rest of my life. Welcome to it. :)