If You Held Me...
If you were a nurse, a doctor, a therapist, or a volunteer at a Midwestern hospital from late September, 1981 through late March, 1982 this is for you. If you held a baby girl, with breathing problems, she might have been me. If you were on the consistently rotating shift of the same nurses, so that baby girl might begin to form attachments, she might have been me.
If you held me. If you sang to me. If you loved me. If you played with me. If you were there for me in any way, when I was two hours away from my family, and my mother was too young to stay with me long term. If you smiled at me. If you kept my airway clear. If you gave me medicine. If you dressed me. If you brought doll clothes from home that might fit me. If you cared for me. Especially, if you didn't have to be there for me, but you were...
THANK YOU.
My grandma tells me about you. She tells me there were specific nurses assigned to me. Volunteers who came just to hold me, to rock me, to sing to me, to play with me.
If this was you, know that I am grateful.
I appreciate you more than words can say. For being there for me when I needed you. For doing everything you did for me as a three-month-old, or a nine-month-old. For six months, that hospital was my home. And it warms my heart to know I was loved and cared for, even if I cannot remember it.
Never doubt the work you are doing. Never doubt your own calling. Sick babies cannot love you back, but grown women can look back, with a lump in their throat, and appreciate that someone, somewhere, took the time to hold them, love them, and be there for them as that tiny baby. My mom could not be there all the time, so thank you for filling in for her and loving me all the minutes she was loving me from afar.
If you held me then, know that I am holding you in my heart now.
Love,
Tonia
If you held me. If you sang to me. If you loved me. If you played with me. If you were there for me in any way, when I was two hours away from my family, and my mother was too young to stay with me long term. If you smiled at me. If you kept my airway clear. If you gave me medicine. If you dressed me. If you brought doll clothes from home that might fit me. If you cared for me. Especially, if you didn't have to be there for me, but you were...
THANK YOU.
My grandma tells me about you. She tells me there were specific nurses assigned to me. Volunteers who came just to hold me, to rock me, to sing to me, to play with me.
If this was you, know that I am grateful.
I appreciate you more than words can say. For being there for me when I needed you. For doing everything you did for me as a three-month-old, or a nine-month-old. For six months, that hospital was my home. And it warms my heart to know I was loved and cared for, even if I cannot remember it.
Never doubt the work you are doing. Never doubt your own calling. Sick babies cannot love you back, but grown women can look back, with a lump in their throat, and appreciate that someone, somewhere, took the time to hold them, love them, and be there for them as that tiny baby. My mom could not be there all the time, so thank you for filling in for her and loving me all the minutes she was loving me from afar.
If you held me then, know that I am holding you in my heart now.
Love,
Tonia