The Nurses Who Carried Us

I've written articles critiquing systems, and a handful have come down fairly hard on the nursing profession. While I've been careful not to come across as anti-nurse, because I'm not, much of my focus has been educating families that nurses, by definition, are not saints.

But it would be incomplete and unfair if I didn’t also say this: many nurses are extraordinary, and I value them deeply for the care they gave our whole family over the years.

Like any field that holds power and responsibility over vulnerable people, nursing includes both extraordinary individuals and people who shouldn't be in the role.

But the extraordinary? They're the ones I want to talk about today. Because some of Declan's nurses truly reflected the very best in humanity.

I couldn’t list all your names if I tried. I don’t remember them all. But I remember what you did. And the only honest way to say thank you is to be specific.

When Declan was in the NICU, a small group of nurses signed on as his primary team. One night nurse in particular became a coach and a confidant. I called almost every night before bed to check on him, and we would talk. One night she gently told me, when I rushed to take Nash from Ryan the second he cried, “Be careful. Being the only one who can comfort them isn’t good for them or for you.” She said it with such care that it stopped me in my tracks. It changed how I showed up as a parent, and I never forgot it.

There was another nurse, Jill, who absolutely loved 'her' little Declan. When he graduated from the NICU and moved to the ICC (Infant Care Center), she temporarily transferred in order to be able to keep working with him. We stayed in touch for years. She felt like a friend and made me feel less alone.

When we brought Declan home and adjusted to home nursing, some fits weren’t great, but some were unforgettable. One nurse quietly told her trainee while washing respiratory supplies, “Just wash Nash’s bottles too. It helps Ashley. We’re not just here for Declan. We’re here for the whole family.” I heard that. I will never forget it.

Nick cheered for Nash when he took his first steps, and then immediately started running back and forth from Nick to Ryan.

Abbey followed us when we changed agencies. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to keep showing up for Declan and for us. She celebrated milestones and brought warmth into the room every time she walked in.

There were nurses who stayed late during respiratory crises. Nurses who included Nash so he never felt secondary. Nurses who helped me push through hospital bureaucracy. Nurses who rearranged schedules to close coverage gaps. Nurses who worked inside strained systems and still showed up with compassion. Nurses who tolerated my bad jokes and strong personality while giving Declan steady, patient care.

Lauren, who stood with me when hospital staff pushed back on emergency decisions.

Joelle, who loved Declan like her own and grieves him with us still.

Natassja, who made us laugh and always remembered to include Nash.

When I critique nursing, it is never meant as a blanket condemnation. It’s meant to help families stay aware and advocate, because nurses are human. Skill varies. Judgment varies. Fit varies. And you don’t know which you have at first.

But to the nurses who carried us, who cared for Declan, supported Nash, steadied me and Ryan, and helped us through the darkest moments: thank you.

You mattered. You still do.