In July, my daughter A was born. She was born with a heartbeat but was not breathing. While my wife is also a Labor and Delivery nurse, I am a medically illiterate government employee. When I saw a limp and quiet baby, I assumed the worst. Our baby was rushed to the nursery where she was intubated and worked on. I collected myself, near passing out, and made my way into the nursery to be there for my daughter. Unsure of what to do and knowing there was very little I could, I asked if there was anything I could do to help, despite the chaos in the room and the dozens of hands that needed to be by A's side for important medical purposes, Tiffany offered to let me hold my daughter's hand and talk to her. Tiffany recognized my confusion and fear and basically allowed me to be in the way so that I could talk to a little girl that I wasn't sure would ever hear me. When I relayed this story to my wife (also an L&D nurse), she burst into tears and explained how amazing it was that, in all of the havoc and commotion, Tiffany showed empathy and understanding to an often-forgotten about parent in the labor and delivery field: the father. We are indebted to her for allowing me these first few moments with A. Being able to speak to her carried on through her care after she was transferred to the NICU, because of Tiffany’s kindness, A always opened her eyes when I spoke to her. Tiffany is the epitome of a compassionate and thoughtful nurse. A is alive and well due to the efforts of this nurse, and she has all of our thanks and appreciation.