Seventeen years ago, after giving birth to my first baby, I lay awake in the hospital room with her sleeping beside me in her little crib. A nurse came in during the night and gently offered to take my baby to the nursery for a few hours so I could rest.
I smiled and said no. I didn’t want her out of my sight. I just wanted to stare at her.
The following night, exhaustion finally caught up with me. When another nurse entered, I asked if she could take my baby to the nursery for a little while so I could sleep.
The color instantly drained from her face.
She looked at me strangely and said, “Your baby is supposed to stay with you at all times. We don’t even have a nursery here.”
I felt my stomach drop.
Confused, I explained that another nurse had offered the night before. The nurse became visibly shaken and immediately called security.
To this day, I still think about it.
Who was the woman who walked into my room that first night? And what would have happened if I had handed over my newborn baby?
