In September, our son “N” was born via emergency cesarean section after a complete placental abruption. Before beginning the c-section, the OB/GYN team had lost his heartbeat, and he was born several minutes later white and unresponsive. Resuscitation efforts began immediately, and at eight minutes, he had a heartbeat and was transferred to the NICU. This is where Kim Madden enters his story and our lives.

When the OB team called for an emergency c-section, a hospital-wide page went out across the speaker system -- "Code white, Wesson Women's Clinic.” Kim heard the page and waited for the phone to ring in the NICU, but it didn't. Shortly after, a second page went out, "Code White, Wesson Women's Clinic -- fetal." At this point, Kim knew something serious was going on, and she took the initiative to get a newborn cooling bed and several other necessary items ready for an incoming newborn. She and two other nurses worked together to get everything they could think of that this baby might possibly need, still not knowing what type of emergent situation was happening downstairs. Due to her quick-thinking, instinct, and resourcefulness, N arrived in the NICU to a fully prepared cooling bed, IV lines for fluids and a blood transfusion, and everything else he needed. He was set up in his cooling bed and had a blood transfusion and fluids going within minutes -- a record time as a result of her actions. The success of cooling therapy is directly dependent on how quickly cooling can begin to prevent brain swelling, so her swift actions made a major impact in preventing additional brain damage and ensuring he could have a better outcome and quality of life.

That afternoon, Kim took several photographs of N for my husband and I because his medical team did not believe he would survive the night. When she finished her shift, she went home and made us a photo collage with his name, weight, height, and birthdate on poster board and laminated it so we would have something to remember him by. N had other plans though, and when she came in the next morning, he was breathing over the vent and was extubated. He was a fighter, and Kim became one of his biggest cheerleaders. We kept the photo collage poster board at his bedside throughout his entire NICU stay so that every doctor, nurse, CNA, or other medical staff member could see just how far he had come from where he started. That collage is something I will cherish forever.

That first week with N was probably the most difficult, and Kim became our “person” in the NICU. I remember on that second day when they realized he could feel pain, Kim asked if she could get an order for something for pain relief. Initially, he was going to be given acetaminophen, but it was Kim who pointed out that his liver was not working properly, and he would not be able to tolerate the medication. Instead, he received morphine. Neither my husband nor I were allowed to hold him for the first four days while he was undergoing cooling therapy. We weren't even allowed to stroke his skin to provide comfort, but Kim came up with ways for us to connect with him and be there anyway we could. Two days after he was born, she brought me a Q-tip-type sponge to wet with my colostrum and let me brush it across his mouth and onto his tongue. It was a simple way she made me feel like part of his care team when I otherwise felt helpless.

When we made it to day four, were told we could finally hold N for the first time but having an umbilical vein catheterization meant there would be an increased danger risk in doing so. Kim made sure that we had a nurse assigned to him willing to let me hold him, despite that risk. The moment I held him for the first time was nothing short of magical, and had Kim not made sure which nurse would be on in her absence, I don't know that it would have happened until his UVC was removed.

At 10 days old, he had a swallow study performed to see if he could start drinking from a bottle, and Kim was once again there with us every step of the way. She explained everything beforehand and was bouncing for joy right alongside us when he passed. Following the swallow study, N was moved from the critical section of the NICU to the "graduate" section. Kim asked to be put on his service there for one rotation and spent time with me answering questions and just being an ear to listen. In my absence, she cuddled with him and also put notes in his bassinet so that if I checked his streaming baby camera, I would know he was being taken care of. Kim was right alongside us for everything, from those early days when we were receiving some of the most gut-wrenching news about his prognosis and those incredible days when he seemed to defy science.

Ultimately, N stayed in the NICU for more than a month, and she remained involved in his care every step of the way, even when she wasn't assigned to him. During that time, Kim continued to take the time to explain everything we could have possibly needed or wanted to know about him, his birth injury, or his care. She provided comfort and hope – an ear to listen to and a shoulder to cry on all throughout his entire NICU journey. When he turned six months old, I scheduled a Peloton cycle ride in celebration of his half-birthday, and she joined to celebrate right alongside me with friends and family members. She has gone above and beyond her professional duties as a nurse. If anyone deserves a DAISY Award, it's Kim. She is the epitome of extraordinary, compassionate care