If you see a beautiful brunette perched atop the one fluffy cloud in this storm that passed over Orlando tonight, stretched out and glowing, that’s surely Kinley’s mom.
We walked in for hands on tonight and found our girl wide eyed and waiting for us. Her bed’s temperature alarm was going off, so I jumped in and took her temperature. Not a fuss and all good. She watched us. She’d yawn, stretch, and play with her feet.
Kinley would look at her mother and crack a mischievous smile.
She kept tugging at her cannula until her respiratory therapist had to swing by and retape it.
We got her weighed and changed. And then it was time for her to have dinner and us to go. Or so we had planned.
We had already taken her out to kangaroo earlier in the day and mom didn’t want to put her through too much. Our favorite nurse insisted it would be okay to hold her again. Surprisingly, mom didn’t take much convincing.
The nurse swaddled Kinley and tossed on her hat. Mom sank into the chair beside the incubator. The little, pink bundle was gently lifted from the incubator and placed in mom’s waiting arms.
The beeps and boops, tubes and wires, all faded away. There were no tears this time. Mom just looked down with a smile and Kinley looked up in amazement.