Our daughter recently spent several weeks in the NICU. Weighed in grams and measured in centimeters, our daughter was born into a world of carefully calculated measurables. She was attached to machines, connected to monitors and was engulfed in a crescendo of beeping alerts. Observing this we quickly realized that there was a well-thought-out plan for each baby in the NICU with a conscientious staff to execute each plan. Each feeding was meticulously planned, each diaper was weighed to measure output, and each day overall progress was tracked. Yet, as parents, when we think back on our daughter's time in the NICU, our memories have nothing to do with grams or centimeters; we don't recall any information on charts, or plots on any graph. What we do think about is the immeasurable impact that nurse Sophie Hill had on our family.

Looking at our daughter in her isolette connected to wires and machines was difficult for us to handle. There are few things more burdensome than seeing your child in such a vulnerable state and being powerless to provide any help at all. It was during that time that Sophie was quick to provide tissues in tearful moments and happy to join in the laughter in the brief moments of levity. Our nervous eyes would wander up to the blinking lights on her monitor and Sophie would intercede with "I'm here to watch all of that, you enjoy your time with her. If I'm not running over you have nothing to worry about." She would reassure us that all of the wires and machines were actually making her more comfortable and it was nothing to worry about. It wasn't just what she said, but how she said it that eased our anxiety. Sophie's presence and calmness allowed us to shed thousands of pounds of worry, even if only for a short while so that we could focus on being with our new baby girl.

Sophie displayed a unique quality that we had not experienced before Lexie's time in the hospital. During an extended period of high stress, Sophie was able to help alter our outlook and change our mood. She made us feel that we were "part of the team" and we all were going to work together to get our daughter ready to go home. This was not an easy task considering Dad was scared to even touch our baby on the hand on the day she was born. It was a long road for all of us, but Sophie was the glue that bound the plan together.

Even on days when Sophie was not the nurse caring for our daughter, she would always make it a point to stop by and say hello. She remembered our son's name and would ask how he was doing at home. She would ask how we were holding up and provide words of encouragement. Individually, we are sure that each of the little moments seem normal and that there was nothing extraordinary in them. But there were countless small gestures. Each of the gestures kept adding up, and when we "crossed the finish line" and were ready to take our daughter home, we realized it wasn't the gestures themselves but the person making the gestures that was extraordinary. From the time "new arrival" was yelled when we entered the unit, until her graduation music played over the loudspeaker, Sophie was the Guardian of our comfort. Simply put, Sophie made up feel like family. Knowing that Sophie was there to watch over our daughter made it a little easier fur us every time we walked past the double doors and towards the elevator bank on floor 3 wing H to go home.

At the end of our tenure in the NICU. it was as if we had known Sophie for all of our lives; like she was our "person on the inside" who looked out for us the whole time we were there. To develop such a connection in such a short period of time is truly special.

We don't know much about The DAISY Award other than the fact that the words "extraordinary" and "compassionate" appear on the nomination form and it asks to describe how a nurse made a "meaningful difference" in your care. Though we know little about the award, we know that if the words and phrases on the nomination form are the true barometer for who should win, then there is no one more deserving of this award than Sophie Hill.

We are aware that our family's stay in the NICU will, someday soon, be a lost memory to Sophie. After all, our daughter's case was not extreme and realistically mundane compared to some of the other patients who are cared for in the unit. We, however, will always have vivid memories of our time at Saint Peter's and the compassionate care Sophie provided. We left each day feeling that Sophie was caring for our daughter the same way she would as if it were her own daughter. For this, there is no measurement or metric that can truly weigh its impact. So it is with our deepest, and most heartfelt gratitude, that we thank Sophie for her care of our daughter and for her care of our family. We are grateful for the opportunity to nominate Sophie for this award and are confident that she is the most deserving recipient.