When I came in for an emergency C-section, my own instincts as a nurse immediately took over. I still remember the words “you’re about to be really popular.” Having been in countless emergent situations myself, I completely shut down emotionally and went into “nurse mode.” As nurses, we’re trained to think, “What needs to be done right now to keep this patient stable?” but we often overlook the emotional recovery that follows, relieved simply that our patients are safe and doing well. After my surgery, my son was taken to the NICU, and I was brought to the Mother Baby Unit to a quiet room with no baby waiting for me. I can still remember the emptiness of that room and the trauma I was blocking out. Nurses and staff came and went, but Ebony made the difference. She took the time to talk with me, to ask about me, and to share a bit about herself. I felt she noticed I was shut down and disconnected. She noticed that my pain wasn’t being managed effectively and went above and beyond to make sure I could get down to the NICU to see my baby boy and stay with him longer than just a few minutes. It made the difference in my mental state. At night, I would sit alone in the dark, waking every two hours to try to build my milk supply. But Ebony never once made me feel like just another patient. She made sure I didn’t feel alone. She never once told my partner, “The nourishment room is down the hall.” When she would ask me what I needed, she did it without hesitation. She never made me feel that since my baby wasn’t with me, I wasn’t important. It’s been five months, and I still think about her often. In one of the most difficult times of my life, she made me feel seen, cared for, and strong enough to push through the pain to be with my baby. She made me feel like I could conquer anything that came my way. And because of her, I was reminded of the kind of nurse I want to be - the kind who takes those extra moments to truly connect and see their patient as a human being who just went through so much.