I wish I knew your name. I wish I could remember more details about the day I was rushed into the hospital. The specifics are hazy, but your presence is unforgettable.
You were the frontline of my care. As I battled through my sickness and miscarriage, you took control of me even to the point of convincing a stubborn doctor that I needed more treatment. You were my greatest advocate and helped navigate my family through nearly losing me.
You provided both my family and me with emotional and spiritual support. Your encouragement was meaningful, moving, and genuine. Thank you for sharing your story and heart with me.
I recall waking up, seeing you there at my bedside tending to me with such gentleness and concern. Because of your fight, your intuition, and not taking “let’s continue to monitor her” as an answer, I am here seven years later with two beautiful girls and one blessed husband.
Those 48 hours were probably just a regular shift for you. You are probably accustomed to saving lives, comforting people, and imparting peace. You did that for me and so many more, those 48 hours were life-changing. You literally saved me and I am forever grateful.
Somehow through divine intervention, I hope that you are reading this letter. Because of you, I am here today, healthy for the children I did have. I can thank you from now until eternity and it still won’t be enough.
I celebrate you this week.