I Have Two Daughters

I could have fallen asleep right next to Dahlia as I shnuggled with her after reading her a book tonight.
As I lay next to her with my eyes closed, feeling her delicious softness and warmth so close to me, I imagined Tikva in the ICN and felt her soft warm skin.
And smelled her already so familiar Tikva smell.

I have two daughters, and yet my experiences with each of them in this present moment are so different.
Like two lives that merge in certain moments.
I have two daughters, and this is one of the very few pictures I have so far of the two of them together.
I have two daughters.

Dahlia calls Tikva "my baby".
She experiences Tikva as her baby.
She's right - Tikva is as much her baby as she is mine.

Tonight I told Dahlia that she and Tikva are my treasures, my girls.
She reminded me that I am also one of my girls.
She is already learning about self-love.

Dahlia is changing.
She has turned a corner in a way I can't really explain.
She is growing, evolving, becoming more sophisticated.
Her sense of humor is becoming more refined.
She hears and takes in everything around her.
She is incredibly smart, alert, sharp.
Her love continues to be boundless.

Even physically she is changing.
She becomes more beautiful every day.
Her nose is lengthening.
Her face maturing.
Her eyes continue to sparkle and her smile to glow.

I have two daughters, and yesterday I thought I might lose one.
I have two daughters, and today I am able to hold hope again.
But it is going to take time for me to get back my faith on a deep and complete level.
Because yesterday was so scary and I am still tired from it all and the movement of time feels strange.
I don't feel like the roller coaster is upside down anymore, but it is still making its way down.
Hanging sideways is better than hanging upside down, but I will feel better when we are horizontal again, not hanging at all.

It feels strange seeing Tikva paralyzed again.
Puffy eyed again.
With her little tongue droopy beneath her breathing tube again.
And yet we are here at 7.5 weeks, not at 1.5 or even 3.5.
We know what she is capable of, and she will continue to move forward in her own time and in her own way.
This is what her mighty being is doing now.
She has been in charge of this journey from the beginning - with God's help - and she continues to be in charge now.

When I look at Tikva I see pure beauty, pure perfection, pure love.
She is incredibly cute, puffy eyes and rashy skin and all.

Allyson has been back since yesterday and she has been a breath of fresh air.
Today, amid putting in a new IV and changing dressings and diapers, she made sure several times that Tikva's lambie and duckie were lying next to her in the same positions as Tikva was lying.
It was probably the cutest and funniest thing I have seen in a long time, and it is this kind of special touch that makes Allyson and some of the other nurses there so incredibly special.

Tikva now has an amazing team of primary nurses and they take the job of caring for her wellbeing very seriously.
I watch them and how they navigate the dance of their life's work and I keep thinking to myself, "I really need to become a nurse one day, I would be so good at this."
They are strong and sweet at the same time, calm and serious at the same time, precise and intuitive at the same time, and overflowing with love and a sense of humor.
I would be so proud to join them.

There is a nurse named Robin who is very special.
She put together an arts and crafts cart for parents to use to make signs for their babies' spaces.
I told her the other day that I really appreciated how abundant the cart was, how many supplies were available to help us be creative, and how calming making signs for Tikva has been during the more stressful times.
She recruited me today to reorganize and put some order to the cart, and in a few days she is going to get me a list of names of babies whose parents haven't made signs for them so that I can do so.

Robin is doing her PhD in nursing, focusing on the experiences of families after they leave the ICN with babies who continue to need extra care.
She told us early on that what makes the difference between a baby who makes it and one who doesn't is the presence of the family.
We get a lot of praise and love from the nurses and doctors for the way in which we are going through this, and the way we are there with and for Tikva.
I cannot imagine doing it any other way; the fact that it will help us when Tikva comes home and in the long run is an added bonus.

Today Tom, the attending doctor from the past two weeks, who is leaving to his next rotation after this weekend, gave me a hug.
Yesterday Roberta gave me a hug, and so did Allyson and Stephanie the social worker.
Strange way to make friends, to connect with people.
And yet how else can you go through something so big with others than to become connected?
Tom has been an incredible and very special doctor for Tikva during this past very difficult week.
That place is full of true gems like him and this is not lost on us.
A lot of mutual respect and admiration and appreciation going around.

There is a little girl named Nancy in the ICN right now.
She is 4 months old and has been in and out of the ICN since birth.
She is the oldest baby there, I'm pretty sure, and she has one big and several small scars on her chest and belly from some kind of surgery.
I'm not sure what brought her to the ICN, but she is the only baby who can handle being pushed around in a stroller.
She is round and chubby and has a serious face and huge cheeks; sometimes she even looks a little bored.
I can't describe how unbelievably cute she is in that stroller, with tough and sweet nurse Sue pushing her around and talking to her about silly things, trying to get Nancy to smile.
Everyone knows who Nancy is; it's like she has become the mascot of the ICN.

Today Dana Estrella, the baby who was on the ECMO machine a few weeks ago, was being held by her mom.
I have never seen more thick and long black hair on a baby - I swear she has more hair than I do.
Her mother still looked worried, but she is definitely doing worlds better than she was at the beginning of her life.

Kalmin's mom and dad and I have been checking in with each other daily about our babies.
They have been lighting a candle at night and telling stories about when Kalmin and Tikva will play together one day when they are older.
Kalmin has healed from pneumonia but it is taking a lot for him to bounce back fully.
His airway can also get blocked so easily - for different reasons than Tikva's - from something as simple as a cry.
Hopefully he will be well enough to be transported back to Phoenix in a few weeks to continue getting his care there (where his family lives) until he is big enough to have his surgery.

Rooms full of small and very fragile babies, and yet they are among the strongest and mightiest people I have ever witnessed.

Alesia sent us a box of Godiva chocolates, which we shared with the nurses and other staff at the ICN.
Chocolate always brings a smile, especially fancy rich creamy chocolate.

Tikva continues to bring more and more essential energy into her being.
When she needs rest from the "trying" all she has to do is be a vessel to receive energy - no need to try.
I put my hand on her chest today and she felt vital, almost electric but a completely calm kind of electric.

Tikva is strong.
Tikva wants to embody this life.
Tikva is here to do big work, no messing around.
Tikva wants to play...
As the heaviness of yesterday became just a tiny bit lighter, I could hear her saying to me, "Why is everyone so serious around here? Lighten up, Frances!"

She is healing on a very deep level right now, harnessing energy within her to strengthen and grow and breathe.
She has chosen to embody this time in a way that isn't easy, and I have promised her that I am right by her side no matter what.
I remind her every day when I go home that I am always in her heart and she is always in mine.

Life is precarious, but if you take away just two letters, life becomes precious.
Life is really both at the same time, isn't it?

Tonight, after a happily uneventful day, Tikva is sleeping peacefully.
Resting and healing and filling her well of energy.

Onward...