A year ago, my doctor sent me up to L&D to get an induction to give birth to a baby I wouldn’t be bringing home. After years of trying to start a family, my little miracle baby died at 36 weeks. My world was dark and shattered. I was lost and had no idea what was going to happen. Then, a bubbly angel walked into my hospital room. Nurse Kate Runn is part of the Madigan Bereavement labor team and was part of my delivery team for my 3-day labor.

In one of the scariest, saddest times of my life, she stood by my side, somehow knowing exactly what I needed, which was sometimes just talking about mindless nothingness to get my head away from the grief, even making me laugh, advocating for my care, slowly providing me information on what to expect one step at a time. She didn’t overload me with information but made sure I had what I needed to make informed decisions. For instance, I had absolutely no idea I would still produce milk, and so she explained that not only would I still lactate but that bereavement donation pumping was an option. Because of her, I went on to donate over 20 gallons of milk to local NICUs, helping many preemies and sick babies. Donating milk gave me a small purpose after losing my son and kept me grounded. Knowing I could produce milk helped me feel like I wasn’t completely a failure of a mother. It was a healing process that I attribute solely to Nurse Kate.

When my labor had stopped progressing, and the staff decided to break my water, Nurse Kate listened as I explained my disastrous amniocentesis and my absolute terror at having my water broken and seeing my amniotic fluid again. She then helped my husband as he set up a movie and headphones so I wouldn’t hear anything, she rigged up a sheet and the pushing bar on the bed so I wouldn’t see anything, and then used the vacuum to get as much fluid as possible so I wouldn’t feel as much. She went above and beyond to make the experience the least traumatic possible. Breaking my water was able to progress my labor and sooner than I thought possible I hit transition and completely freaked out, hit the call button, and begged her for pain medication. While she couldn’t give me the medication in time, she literally held me up as she told me my baby was coming and gave me the best gift she could have given me in that my moment: I was able to hold my baby. I was able to see my husband hold our baby. You helped make an event that would have been the most traumatic to one of the happiest moments of my life. I got to hold my baby.

You saved me from the horrors of mass-cooked military-grade fish by giving me your lean cuisine lunch, which to this day was the best frozen meal I have ever had! You brought me coffee the next morning with your own Golden Girls mug, sitting and drinking with me as I was able to look over at my son in his special bassinet. You made a beautiful sign with his hand and footprints. To this day, over a year later, I still cuddle the teddy bear you gave us when I miss him. When the world wants to forget him, the photos you took of my baby, my husband, and me are the only things I have that make him feel real. Like he was actually here, I carried him, I delivered him, I love him.

I became pregnant again with a rainbow baby, and the pregnancies were on almost the same exact timeline, only 4 days apart. I was terrified and made many trips to labor and delivery to ensure my baby was all right. Kate was there for me, telling me how wonderful my baby was doing. She even held my hand when I started crying, relieved that the baby was fine after I came in for decreased fetal movement. She held my hand as I came to understand how sick my son had been, realizing how different the pregnancies were was hard. She continued to make sure we had the information I needed, keeping me informed and with plenty of time to consider my options. One that stood out was if I wanted to deliver P in the same room or a different one; something I hadn’t even considered. We planned an induction due to gestational diabetes and honestly a bit of terror that I would lose her like I had lost my son. As my induction got closer, my biggest hope was that Kate would be there with me. She had come so far, being my rock. My husband’s phone rang, and it was Nurse Kate telling us to grab our bags and show up at the hospital we were having a baby. We showed up, and she met us at the entrance to Triage. In her scrubs with a golden girls t-shirt. A homage to our last birth together, where I got to hold my son and drink a cup of coffee for the first and last time. While the world wants me to forget my son, her simple action told me that she will never forget him, and she was ready for the emotional ride this birth would be (which I wasn’t). While I was scared, nervous, excited, terrified, all the emotions really, I knew that I was in good hands. Kate was going to be there the entire time.

She helped me through the entire labor. She taught my husband techniques to get me through contractions, she switched off with him. She helped me through some decreased fetal heart rates by changing positions, and when my labor stopped progressing, she convinced me to change positions, which I was petrified to do for fear of additional decreased heart rate. But all her suggestions and assistance led to me delivering my daughter with Nurse Kate by my side encouraging me. The sound of my baby crying and Nurse Kate telling me she is ok is one of the best sounds I have ever heard. Nurse Kate has gone so far beyond the call of duty; she’s taken the darkest moments of our lives and given us hope for the future. We have had an anxiety-inducing 2 years, but along the way, we had a constant guide, and we can truly say from the bottom of our hearts, “Thank you for being a friend!”

Note: This is Kate's 2nd DAISY Award!