grief, loss, personal narrative, NICU, pneumonia
The second night in the hospital after our son was born, I crept out of bed, hobbled a few feet across the linoleum, and curled up on the stiff pleather couch where Daniel was sleeping. Our son was in the NICU with a mild case of pneumonia, so it was just he and I in that little room. My body hurt. My heart, too. Daniel pulled me close on the little green hospital couch, and I wept. It felt like nothing would be good again—like we would never be the same.
"On the Necessity of Loss,"
BYU Studies Quarterly: Vol. 61:
2, Article 9.
Available at: https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/byusq/vol61/iss2/9