Placing a central line is no joke.

I've been poked and prodded so many times my arms are purple and sore. I have always been a challenge to get an IV placed. This is a new kind of torture. Kim, a mom from school who is also the head nurse, holds my hand and stays with me through it all.

Nine months earlier, sepsis took Elijah, and it almost took me. My situation went downhill fast and I was rushed from L&D to the ICU. Kim was one of the first L&D nurses to come to the ICU to examine me. She knew that I never even had the chance to clean up after delivery and I was a hot mess of emotions. She stood at my bedside with a basin of warm water and towels along with offers to help with my older children.

Another nameless nurse, took especially good care of Elijah while Kim took care of me. This nurse treated him like she would a living baby. She gave him his first bath and dressed him in a beautiful white gown. She carefully recorded his birth and made sure to get his handprints and footprints. Then, with my camera, she took pictures of him, making sure to get close ups of his precious little hands and feet. She swaddled him, gave him a teddy bear, and brought him to me once I was stable. Her name escapes me, but her kindness will remain with me forever.

A year later, Kim’s familiar face brings comfort after 3 weeks of bedrest. I am only 24 weeks pregnant and 5 days post my membranes rupturing, so there is much concern for the health of my unborn son. Everyone in the room understands the urgency to get this procedure done. After multiple tries, the central line is a bust. My arm is happy for a reprieve. There’s talk of coming back to try again later in the day.

My afternoon nurse shows up with lunch and extra cheesecake. She knows the ordeal I have been through and hopes to bring a smile to my face. I am grateful but can barely eat.

Labor starts soon after. A new L&D nurse keeps close watch over me until my husband arrives.

I’m wheeled into the operating room, and even though her shift has ended, Kim is by my side again. Instead of being home with her family, she stays to support mine. Kim helped me mourn the loss of one son and now she will help usher in the birth of another.

Not all angels have wings, some wear scrubs.