Remembering

When the Bear was born and terribly sick, he was on a ventilator. His room was filled with giant machines just meant to support his 8lbs of life. It was so artificial, but so necessary.

His oxygen saturation was always so low. It was difficult to raise it, but it would usually fall back down by the end of the day.

This volunteer would come around to every NICU room to offer books for us to read. And I'd sit next to the Bear, press my face close to his incubator and read his stories.

His oxygen saturation would always go up, but it was always so difficult to read between my tears. It was hard to read these stories about birds, dogs or little kids when I was wondering IF he'd ever be able to experience the world. I'd sob between nursery rhymes all the time.

I really hope to volunteer at a NICU one day.