Sweet Smile of Encouragement and God Holding My Hand

Somehow I DID pass the criminal background check and now volunteer in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) at the hospital.  (See blog post entitled “Big Day?")  I ABSOLUTELY LOVE it!!!  This was written September 29^th after I had completed my training.  The title of this post indicates it has some “religious stuff” in it.  But I don’t think it is a lot.  And any reader can skip over that part.  Just look at it as how the experience in the NICU affected me.  The part I think you will enjoy and not be sorry you read is about the babies themselves.    

I want to share the most touching story.  I just last night finished by training to be a volunteer in The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at the Betty H Cameron Women’s and Children’s Hospital.  And, fair warning:  do NOT go there unless you understand very well that your heart will be captured immediately. 

Let me tell you about the first babies who started me out on a new adventure.  For the most obvious of reasons, I won’t use even their first names, or the initials.  I’ll have to assign each his/her number, according to the order in which I met them. 

Baby # 1 would win a baby beauty contest.  (I say that with the utmost respect to all those other beauties!)  Her little face is flawless, her little head perfectly shaped, her eyes ever so pretty, and the fingers of her little hand are exquisitely delicate and seem made for playing an instrument.  The fact that she doesn’t have so much in the hair “category” only adds to her beauty because there is just enough.  I would describe her hair color (as much as can be determined by the smattering of her current hairstyle) as very light brunette.  She has a totally feminine name; one that brings to mind the more delicate colors of springtime.  And by the way, she is a withdrawal baby.  But as she was settling down and giving in to the comfort of being held I reminded her that God knew all about this fact and He had sent me to pray over her.  She fell asleep as we were praying.

Baby #2 would be giving Baby #1 a run for her money in that beauty contest.  She has large, dark eyes that would defy the most callous to remain indifferent.  They are, without doubt, the most soulful eyes I have ever seen.  The fingers of her tiny hand are not long like those of Baby #1.  They are somewhat thicker and have larger fingernails, wonderfully shaped, as I told her, for polish.  And her hair?  Let me just say she is the would-be trendsetter, not only on her hallway, but within the entire NICU!  I personally love, love, love it!  Think in terms of cotton candy.  Its delicate texture and wispiness paint the correct mental picture for you.  But to give that picture a twist, Baby #2 wears that wispy look predominantly on top.  She likes a minimum amount of hair on the sides of her head, and practically none on the back.  A totally unique look, and, as I said, one I find eye-catching. 

Miss Baby #2 is an action oriented girl.  She sleeps very little.  And when she does she seems to prefer scrunched up positions.  By the second day we hung out together I think she was liking it that Miss Regenia was catching on.  If necessary I would hold my arm up at a somewhat awkward position and/or slouch down so Baby #2 would be half reclining, half sitting up and her head would rest against my cheek.  Whatever the position, Baby #2 was intractable on one thing.  She wanted her “paci” either in her mouth for some rather vigorous sucking or at hand so as to be available to her pretty much instantaneously.  (Miss Regenia, being non-athletic, has not yet mastered all the physical dexterity Baby #2 requires, but she is willing to work on it.) 

In addition to liking action, this baby girl is also determined.  Born at 25 weeks, she weighed only 1 pound 4 ounces.  She has undergone at least 2 surgeries and has had to have a good portion of her intestine removed.  As a consequence she is unable to absorb the nutrients she needs.  The very, very small feeding tube inserted in her nose provides ongoing nourishment, to help her in between feeding times.  She pays it no mind. 

When I first met her, I thought Baby #2 had attempted some gymnastic feat within the confines of her beautifully decorated “crib”.  I wanted to believe that was the cause of her tiny broken arm.  To wonder about it happening in any other way was unthinkable.  How uninformed and uneducated I am as a new volunteer baby holder!  Baby #2’s arm was in the cast because her diminutive bones are too fragile.  As I understand it, this would be less of a problem if her body could do a better job of grabbing onto all the nutritional benefits of her diet.  Her nourishment passes too rapidly through her system.   And, just as she does with regard to her feeding tube, Baby #2 ignores this inconvenience.  This cast, having to be a fashion accessory, is, thankfully, a neutral color.  She and I have determined that was a wise choice on the part of her doctors. 

With respect to their “figures”, Baby #1 and Baby #2 should have no concerns; both are perfect.  There is a difference, however, in how they came to have said figures.  Baby #1, being full term, came by hers naturally.  Baby #2, getting a good deal ahead of herself at birth, has had to go through a lot to attain hers.  That comes as no surprise, I’m sure, given what you've already learned about her life.     

But little lives that begin with such struggles and obstacles can bless us so effortlessly.  The first night Miss Baby #2 and I were together I informed her of my intention to pray over her.  As with all babies who are in essence a few weeks old, focusing on what I was saying was challenging.  She, of course, had not overtly responded to anything I had said.  However, being almost 5 months old, this baby girl had progressed in some ways beyond the two week old stage.  And the most wonderful thing happened.  I was explaining to her that her angels and those of all children always get first access to God the Father.  I went on to say that Jesus loved her very much and not to doubt that even given her rough start in life.  And you know what happened?  As I said the name Jesus, she smiled.  I mean actually smiled.  This wasn't just a stretching sideways of her tiny lips that could possibly be seen as a smile. This was a smile that would be defined as such by anyone who might see it. 

I found that so touching and encouraging.  But, like we all do, I began to doubt what I had seen.  After all, it could have been a true coincidence.  So I repeated my message that Jesus loves her.  And there it was; another big smile exactly when I said Jesus’ name.  Now, I really, REALLY had to check this out once more.  And once more Baby #2 gave me that same beautifully sweet smile a third time!  I almost felt as if she were letting me know she understood what I so desperately wanted her to know.  But that’s not all.  In the same way a speaker tries to gauge his/her approach and efficacy by looking for some form of acknowledgement from those listening, and is relieved to see even the slight shake of a head and/or the direct gaze of someone, I had unconsciously been looking for confirmation.  I think I wanted affirmation that I had done the right thing by volunteering to help with the babies, as opposed to somewhere else in the hospital.  That sweet smile was it.

Baby #1 and #2 like to hold hands with me.  I spent 90% of training time with Baby #2, so of course there is more to say about her.  At one point last night, when I was apparently correctly positioned per Miss #2’s preferences, I looked at her hand attached to by mine.  The ebony shade of her tiny hand clinging to my very pale, age spotted one was meaningful.  Should a water colorist been there to paint just our hands s/he could have entitled the work “Life Distilled”.  That’s what I saw, anyway.  I saw the cycle of life illustrated.  I saw the inherent need we humans have for one another, like it or not.  I saw that interconnectedness we have even across generations.  I saw the beauty, the fulfillment, the meaning of life when we recognize this fact and work as hard to live accordingly as Baby #2 has worked to survive.  I saw God holding my hand.  Sweet Baby #2’s hand was, in fact, His hand.  And I am thankful it was tightly gripping mine.