Last night, we got a call to take a ventilator to the NICU for a baby. I was in charge and didn't have the NICU but rather the MICU. The girl who had it, though, wanted me to help her, and so I did. Shortly thereafter, I got called for a vent for the mom, who was to be going to the MICU. She didn't make it. Code Blue, Labor and Delivery OR. And so I went. She coded in the same OR where I delivered Zach. On one of my doctors. When it became apparent we weren't going to get her back, we called the husband and her parents back so they could say goodbye. Her father wrapped his arms around my neck and sobbed for his young daughter. I thought he was going to fall and I was worried I didn't have the strength to hold him up. My scrub top was wet with his tears. And I proved to myself that I am tougher than I know I am. In more ways than one.
She died. Her beautiful, full-term baby girl is a picture of health.
And right now, I don't know if I can stomach going back to that place. Right now, I hate my f###### job.