Every day for those few weeks our son was in the NICU started the same for my husband and I. We would get up at 6am, grab what I called the nipple bag*, grabbed Dunkin’, and drove the half hour to the hospital. Then park, wave at the guard on our way in, and take the elevator to the ninth floor. We would wash our hands and then press the call button so they could let us in.
And then we’d take the walk. Continue reading