Nurses leave their fingerprints on the hearts of their patients, often transforming the fabric of their lives forever. The touch of a nurse and the imprints that are left can resurface when we least expect them. I know, because it happened to me.
Rushing to the operating room as my baby's heart rate was quickly plummeting was the most frightening experience I could have ever imagined. The operating room was loud with the sound of monitors beeping, people moving quickly, and bright lights burning my eyes. In the chaos that consumed me, there was one voice that stood out and spoke straight to my heart. The voice was calm, steady and sure. The smile on her face and the enduring look in her eyes immediately warmed me and centered my thoughts during those moments. She assured me that she would be there for me, my husband and our baby boy. I didn't know it then, but the nurse who whispered in my ear, instilling me with trust and calming my nerves to anchor me through my son's first breath-and who would one day do the same during the birth of my daughter-would years later guide me through the fight for my own life.
My husband and I had battled infertility for years. We thought that having a baby would never be part of our family's plan. God's plans are always worth waiting for. In 2003, our miracle was ready to unfold. We were full of excitement as we headed to the hospital in Canon City, Colorado, to meet our baby boy. We arrived at the hospital, where I met Jenn, my nurse. Some people are unforgettable, though you don't always realize it in the moment. She wasn't family; she wasn't someone I had known for years. She was a nurse I met on the most vulnerable day
of my life.
As labor progressed, it began to take a turn. The doctor entered the room with a concerned expression on his face. He told me that the baby's heart rate was dropping quickly. He needed to take me to the operating room for an emergency C-section. My husband and I were extremely frightened and struggled to understand what was happening. Jenn became the calm in my storm; she steadied my breath and made me believe in the doctor and the team waiting for me in the operating room. Her voice brought a blanket of peace that spread over my husband and me as we worked to bring our son safely into the world. Minutes later, our beautiful redheaded baby boy was born. He had a brief struggle but quickly let out a beautiful cry, introducing himself to the world.
We spent the next few days in the hospital watching Jenn assess our new baby. She would hold him and tell us how perfect he was. When it was time to go, I wanted to pack her away in my suitcase and take her home with us. She had been my strength and rock. Saying goodbye was difficult, as I didn't know if I would ever see her again. As I thought to myself, "How do you thank someone for giving you the gift of peace when you needed it most?" A hug was all I had to offer as we left the hospital. I vowed never to forget her. Five years later, we were expecting another miracle baby. This time we would have a girl.
Unlike with her brother, this pregnancy was much more challenging. The concern over her wellbeing resulted in weekly visits to the hospital for testing. Each week, I went to labor and delivery to be hooked up to machines to monitor the baby. I would spend hours at the hospital getting to talk in-depth with the staff and my favorite nurse, my friend Jenn. She would visit with me, making me laugh as I lay in bed. Over the months, we grew closer. She told me that having a girl to add to our family would make us the perfect "Fisher Price family." She shared stories about her own Fisher Price family and recounted her experiences as a mother and a nurse. She was an inspiration!
On a cold March day, the labor came on very quickly. I was set to have a planned C-section, but this baby could not wait. It was three o'clock in the morning when our baby decided it was time. We rushed to the hospital to find two young, new nurses sitting at the desk, their faces filled with shock. The first call was to our doctor, who wanted to attempt to stop the labor. When this did not work, the on-call doctor decided to take me quickly to the operating room, as it was expected that the outcome might not be good. The second call was made to Jenn, who was sleeping peacefully at home.
I once again found myself in the cold chaos of the operating room. My husband was not initially allowed in, as it was a very emergent situation. I felt alone and scared as I heard voices talking loudly across the room. Moments later, I felt a warm hand grasp my own. I heard a familiar voice on my left side say, ''I'm here and I've got you." I looked up into the eyes of my angel, Nurse Jenn. She remained by my side through the entire scary ordeal. My husband was invited in at the very last moment to experience the birth of his daughter. No one was sure if the baby would survive. Jenn's voice is what I held on to during those moments. Once my daughter was born, she was rushed to the NICU. My husband was left with a choice: "Go with the baby or stay with
Mom, but neither of them is doing well." He looked at Jenn for reassurance. She said, "Go with the baby, and I will stay with her. I've got her!"
Jenn never left my side while the medical team worked to stabilize me. Not knowing where my daughter was and how she was doing was terrifying. After what seemed like hours, I was brought back to the labor and delivery room, where Jenn brought my little beautiful fighter, all wrapped up in a blanket with a pink hat on, and placed her into my arms. When we left the hospital this time, I struggled deeply with how to say goodbye. She was not just my nurse, she was my hero. To thank her appropriately seemed impossible.
Over the years, our family moved across the country as my husband's career progressed. We went from Canon City to Oregon, where we lived for three years. Then came a move to Florida,
where we spent seven years. Still, I often thought of Jenn and the profound impact she had on my life. As my children grew older, I decided to pursue a career as a nurse. My driving force: Jenn, and the way she made me feel. Giving back to others and making them feel the same way would be the best way for me to thank her. I only wished I could show her so that she would know the extent of my appreciation. On my first day of nursing school in Florida, the instructor asked us to share why we wanted to become nurses. Deep down, I wished that Jenn could hear me when I spoke about her and how she inspired me to help people.
After years at home with my children and following a career in nonprofit business, I went on to complete nursing school and became a cardiac nurse. Each patient allowed me the opportunity to be a "Jenn" and provide them with peace and calm in a world of the unknown. Years passed, and life moved on. In 2022, my husband received yet another transfer; we would be moving back to Colorado, this time to Colorado Springs, where I was able to find a great job: I was hired in the cardiac cath lab at UCHealth Memorial Hospital Central. But just 10 months after our move, the words "breast cancer" split my world in two, and I found myself sitting in an outpatient infusion chair, afraid of the chemotherapy I was about to receive. I sat looking out of the picture window at the beautiful mountains, praying for peace and understanding. I knew I needed to be strong, but I didn't know how. My husband held my hand as he wrestled with how
to be strong for both of us. My port was accessed, and they made me comfortable as I waited for my nurse to come and begin my first chemotherapy treatment.
Behind my chair, I could hear the voice of my nurse speaking to me. She was certainly telling me something important about the chemotherapy I was about to receive. I listened to her voice but couldn't make out the words. "The voice ... I know that voice," I thought quietly to myself. I couldn't place it, but my heart told me immediately that it was someone special to me, but who? She continued to talk as she moved around to the left side of the chair. I looked into her familiar face, which I had not seen in 15 years, and knew right away. My nurse, my angel. .. Jenn was standing before me. We quickly reconnected through a river of tears. She placed her warm hand into mine once again and said, "I've got you." The same gentle strength - this time not to usher life into the world, but to help me hold onto my own.
God sent her to me in all of my greatest times of need. In between, she gave me something even greater: the inspiration to walk in her footsteps. I became a nurse because of her. And now, with every patient whose hand I hold, I carry forward the quiet strength she once gave me.
Some imprints never fade. Some are meant to be passed on.
Melissa Bauer, BSN, RN, has been a nurse for seven years. She currently is a nurse manager at UCHealth Memorial Hospital Central in Colorado Springs, where she manages the Hope Unit
as well as the Emergency Department Observation Unit.
Jennifer Lucas RN, BSN is an oncology infusion nurse at UCHealth Memorial Hospital North. Jennifer has been a nurse for 30 years, working in labor and delivery for 25 years prior to moving into the oncology infusion center.
Jennifer Lucas is the daughter of Roger and Lynda Terry of Beloit, Kansas
