From the very first day of A's life, born at just 27 weeks and 6 days, Brooke has been a light in our journey. She met us not just as a research nurse, but as a compassionate, steady presence during one of the most overwhelming moments of our lives. Brooke introduced a research study that A barely qualified for, and even though my mind was clouded with emotion and fear, Brooke patiently explained it again and again until I could understand. She didn't just inform; she empowered. And when she sensed I needed more, she brought in the doctor to ensure I felt fully supported in making a decision for my daughter's future. From that moment forward, Brooke has never left our side.

She has been a nurse to A and a friend to me, showing up not only with medical insight but with tissues, hugs, and words that wrapped around us like a warm blanket. Even after A was transferred to a cardiovascular hospital, Brooke still came to check on her following a terrifying code blue. She didn't have to. But that's Brooke; she chooses to show up. She listens with intention. She educates with patience. She brings laughter when the days feel unbearably heavy. She delivers hope when it feels like there's none left to hold onto. Brooke often jokes that her office is like a closet under the stairs a Harry Potter reference that makes me smile but she's rarely in it. Instead, she's at the bedside. She's hands-on, invested in A in a way few others are. Her research role may be behind the scenes, but her heart is at the forefront.

She is not just collecting data; she is shaping destinies. Brooke is ensuring that the babies born too soon today and the ones who come tomorrow will have better outcomes because someone fought for answers and for them. Her work is the reason protocols improve, treatments evolve, and hope becomes medicine. However, the moment I realized she had to be nominated occurred just this week. For 13 weeks, I've exclusively pumped breast milk, clinging to the hope that one day, A would be able to nurse at my breast. When the day finally came, there was no NICU, no lactation consultant, just me and A, struggling alone. She cried. I cried. I ended up feeding her from a bottle and grieving what felt like a missed milestone. Then Brooke came. She visited a few days later, listened as I poured out my heart, handed me tissues like she always does, and held space for my pain.

Then today, she came back again with a nipple shield to help A latch. And today, A nursed. Brooke gave me the gift I had waited for and prayed for —a moment of bonding I thought had slipped away. She didn't just help A eat. She healed a heartbreak. She gave us a memory that will last a lifetime. Brooke is more than a nurse. More than a researcher. She is a bridge between science and soul. Between medicine and motherhood. Between hope and healing. She is pouring her time, heart, and brilliance into shaping the future of neonatal care one baby, one mother, one act of extraordinary compassion at a time. She is the very definition of a DAISY Nurse, and it is time the world sees what I see.