The birth of my son was anything but a perfectly followed plan. After spending years praying for our special bundle of joy, I spent my entire pregnancy praying for the perfect plan for his birth, as well. From delayed cord clamping, an unmedicated birth (for as long as possible), movement through labor, minimal interventions, and, of course, the golden hour after birth.

On Saturday, I told my husband I thought we should get checked at the hospital because I just felt "off." I had a bit of nausea, a headache, and my feet had become even more swollen than they'd been in the previous weeks. I took my blood pressure before leaving, as I had a feeling it was "off" too, and we decided that the hospital was assuredly the right choice-even in a snowstorm with 7.2 inches coming down. We grabbed one of the hospital bags "just in case".

After arriving at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, one of the amazing doctors who had followed my pregnancy, confirmed my fears that, based on my blood pressure, we would need to have an induction the next morning due to preeclampsia. My heart sank and raced all in just a moment as this was already so different from what I planned.

The next morning, I was still anxious about the induction process, but this was also the morning that we met nurse Bri. She was reassuring and so patient. The induction happened a little earlier than anticipated, so my husband was still at home, grabbing the rest of our hospital items. During the foley balloon induction, Bri coached me through the discomfort and held my hand.

After being induced with a foley balloon, they told me the next step would be Pitocin, which was on the NO side of my birth plan. Before Pitocin was administered, I asked if, first, my husband and I could try to dance to speed things up. I was assured that everything was up to me, and the dancing did indeed work! I labored without the need for Pitocin and felt things were falling back into place. I moved through contractions, and little did I know at the time, but I made it to 9.5cm without an epidural, which had been my goal as long as possible. After 16 hours of labor, I was ecstatic to meet my little man, but within moments of feeling his small, precious body against mine, I could feel something was wrong.

I felt faint, and I could tell from the nurses' and doctors’ actions that they couldn't get me to stop bleeding. Nurse Bri grabbed my hand as they took me back to the OR for a D and C to remove a piece of placenta that had remained stuck. I could hear shuffling around, bits and pieces of conversation about what to give me to stop my bleeding, and I could hear the vacuum, but I felt too weak to talk. I felt a million miles from my body and could feel myself getting weaker. The only question I really wanted to ask, as I kept feeling weaker, was "Am I going to die?" but instead I prayed and focused on Bri's hand in my hand. At one point, they had asked Bri to do something else, but I used all my force to hold onto her hand tighter because I was so afraid of having "nothing" if she let go. She held my hand the entire time and didn't let go. Nurse Bri held on tight when I needed that the most.

It took me a bit to "rise and shine" after the procedure, and I learned that I lost over 2.5L of blood, but I was more devastated to learn that I lost my golden hour with my son. Nurse Bri not only showed empathy but also encouragement throughout the entire situation. In addition to advocating for me as a patient, she worked to lift my spirits and make me about a dozen "Pink Ladies" (ginger ale and cranberry juice) to rehydrate.

When my son went for his circumcision the following day, I was sobbing with worry as my husband went with him, but my husband texted me and said that Bri was in the hall cheering for him as he went back, so I didn't need to worry.

Bri repeatedly checked on me even when she wasn't assigned to me. She was the epitome of going above and beyond. This includes when we had to come back to the hospital just days later.

I was discharged on Wednesday, and on Saturday, I had that "off" feeling again. I took my blood pressure, and again, we were back at the hospital in the middle of a snowstorm. I thought perhaps I was still weak, or stressed even, but my blood test confirmed that I had severe postpartum preeclampsia, which was beginning to affect my liver and kidneys.

Soon after, I was given blood pressure medicine and put on a magnesium drip for 24 hours. I was so proud of not needing the magnesium at delivery that I was devastated to need it just two days after trying to settle in at home.

The 24 hours of magnesium felt like the longest 24 hours of my life, but for the moments that Bri stopped in during my drip and after, I felt so safe again, and I felt distracted from what was going on. She again wasn't my nurse in these moments, but she still offered her help in anything I needed, even if it was just a shoulder to cry on. Bri even hunted down some clean onesies for our son since we hadn't anticipated being hospitalized again. Not only did Bri hold my hand throughout our journey, but she also helped to hold our entire family together with positivity.

I wanted to take the time to nominate Bri as she will always be recognized in our birth story and our hearts. I shared all that Bri had done for us with other nurses on the floor, and every single nurse agreed that Bri was amazing and that all of that sounded just like her. From this, I can tell that while Bri made me feel special, I was not a special case, but simply that Bri is a special nurse who embodies all that an exceptional nurse should.