We came to the hospital because my daughter was in labor. We adopted our daughter when she was 3 days old. When she discovered she was pregnant, she (as she wasn't married) seriously considered placing her son with an adopted family. She wanted her son to have the opportunity to have both a mother and father present in his life. She was grateful her biological mother had made the difficult choice when she was born to give her that same opportunity. She prayed very hard and felt that God directed her to the wonderful couple she found and selected to be his parents. They drove all night long to be here as soon as they were notified she'd gone into labor. It was a very tender and sacred moment for all of us when they walked into the room, and she handed them her baby. It was all smiles and happy tears as we shared, visited, and took turns holding the baby.

The hospital was very full, and they had difficulty finding a post-partum room for our daughter so we all stayed together in the delivery room. Late in the afternoon of the second day, a nurse came into the room reporting that they had found a room for her and she invited as to follow her with our things to that room. As we followed her out of the room I felt a sudden realization that we were walking away without the little person who had been a part of us for the past nine months...I felt an unexpected clenching of my heart, which increased exponentially as I witnessed my daughter take painful step after step. It was the most difficult walk of our lives. Words can't describe the grief that hit us both when we finally reached that sad, empty, baby-less room. I was at a complete loss of how to comfort her. Helpless. Nurse Nicolette came in and instantly knew what was happening. She gently told my daughter she would be right back. When she returned, she pressed a soft teddy bear into my daughter’s arms and said, "This is not your son, but he's about the same size and he will fit for now in the place where your son was so your body doesn't feel so empty". My daughter reached for the bear, grasped it in her arms, and fell onto the bed. She cried herself into an exhausted sleep. How Nurse Nicolette knew exactly what to do, I'll never know. God must have whispered in her ear, and I will forever be grateful that she listened.

It's been over a month now, and there isn't a day that has gone by that I haven't replayed these moments in my head and felt gratitude beyond any I've ever felt. How do you thank a person for interceding with a healing kind of love for your child when their suffering exceeds even that which a mother can give? This is my poor attempt to do that. Wherever you are, Nurse Nicolette, Thank You!