Jane McNamara, Nurse

Throughout pregnancy, every woman has a dream of what their postpartum experience will look like. You picture the quiet family moments as a new family of three, snuggling your newborn with heavy eyes but full hearts. No woman dreams of what a NICU mother experiences—having your baby taken from you right after birth, waiting anxiously for any update while recovering from surgery yourself.

Sleeping in your hospital bed with no baby beside you while listening to a baby cry in the room next door. Going home from the hospital with an empty car seat. It is a type of heartbreak that is truly indescribable. There are very few things to find comfort in during a NICU stay, and I can confidently say that your baby’s nurse is one of the very few things that can provide peace for a mother.

Each nurse we had was exceptional, but there is no question that Jane altered our experience entirely. My daughter had Jane as her nurse during her third day of life. I had only held her once before at this point, but that day was different because I was alone. I anxiously asked Jane if I could try skin-to-skin, which is no easy task for the staff when they have several other babies to care for, and transitioning a NICU baby from their bed is no easy feat.

My daughter was so swollen and hot due to her ongoing medical battle, so she began to scream immediately when placed on my chest. We got her to settle for a brief moment, and Jane went to help a colleague. During this time, she woke and started to cry again—not just a typical baby cry, but a guttural scream that shook me to the core. I remember crying over her head, thinking that she didn’t know who I was, that she didn’t love me, and that this NICU stay had already altered her brain chemistry to not find comfort in her mother.

Jane immediately came back over to comfort not only me but my daughter. Instead of giving up and putting her back in bed, Jane was determined to maximize our skin-to-skin time. It took almost 30 minutes to calm her, but the hard work was worth it because once she calmed, she was on my chest for almost four hours. It was truly a turning point in my postpartum experience because it was the first time I felt truly bonded to my baby. Words cannot describe how impactful this day was for me.

Every day in the NICU, you are assigned a new nurse. Regardless of who our nurse was each day, every shift that Jane was in the hospital, she came to check in on my daughter. She was so involved in her care even when she didn’t have to be. She sat with me during her breaks and talked through her medical updates. She helped me curate ways to advocate for her to the rest of the medical team. She offered constant reassurance and support, especially at the end of our stay when it felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. Some days we would come in the morning and the nurse taking care of my daughter would say, “Jane told me all about your daughter this morning before you got here!”

We loved the open room concept of the Northshore NICU. It allowed Jane to sit and get to know our family. The first half of our stay was in a room where many of the high-risk babies are. Things in this room can become intense very quickly. We witnessed the way Jane is the first to do anything and everything for her colleagues. She was constantly assisting with other patients before the other nurses even needed to ask for help. I watched the determination and focus she had when they got three high-risk admissions within an hour at the very end of a shift. The teamwork this unit shows is beyond anything I have personally seen in my career.

I sit here typing this with tears in my eyes as my daughter sleeps soundly beside me. No more tubes and wires, no more breathing support, no more beeping of machines behind us. Finally, the quiet family moments we dreamed of. It may not have transpired the way we wanted or expected, but we made it.

Thank you, Jane. I am a better mother and provider because of you.