At 7 a.m. and 7 p.m., the nurses in the newborn ICU at Community North give a shift changeover report to the incoming team members who’ll be taking over the care of each baby. May 21. 27+4. Severe pre-eclampsia. C-section. The details of Elizabeth’s early arrival into the world.  

After 90 days, I could nearly recite it.

This past Monday, Ben and I officially took over the shift. We brought home our sweet baby — not to visit her every day but to get to live together finally as a family. 

We could never say enough good things about the doctors, nurses and other care providers who nurtured and watched over Elizabeth as she grew from a tiny 2 pounds to nearly 8 pounds on her way home. 

From respiratory therapists giving her a magic mix of oxygen, pressure and time to help her learn to breathe on her own to physical and occupational therapists who helped move her little body in ways that mimicked the womb, comforting her and hastening her development. And no, we never tired of the joke that her occupation is BABY.

In her three-month stay, Elizabeth encountered dozens of the best nurses in the world, but she had three who chose her as their primary patient. The time and care those women gave to her was a balm to our hearts when we were far away.

I’ve joked that all of Elizabeth’s friends are healthcare professionals, but we truly got to know and love the people who shared our daughter’s first days with us. They supported us in the fearful early days and celebrated progress with us every time we walked the halls.

They call it NICU graduation, but it’s really a commencement. The beginning of life in her Peter Rabbit-themed nursery (arranged with love by our dear friends). Of late night feedings with her frazzled, amateur parents. Of naps in her bassinet without the glow of a vital signs board above her. 

Elizabeth, we’re so very glad to have you home. 

Julie + Ben