Haven’t I seen you before?

We were six days in. Fractured, but present. Our baby lay on a respirator and it was just Russ and I. I get a phone call that my grandparents were there (they’re in their late 80s). We walked down and met them and led them to see Marley for the first time. She lay sleeping chest heavy up and down with tubes leading from her nose, mouth and arm. It was so hard for them to see and not be able to hold her. It was hard to see her ourselves. They stayed for a few and then had to get back. Home was forever away. We walked them out. Russ pushed Gpa, it was a long walk. We had become quite savvy at navigating the hospital wings. Russ was wearing gym shorts and a tee shirt. I’m sure I was wearing my only black lounge pants and black nursing tee. We were talking to them when Russ looks up and sees someone. He recongnizes that he knows, but can’t quite place it. It takes a few seconds. The other guy knows him too. He pushes Grandpa to a halt and he reaches out to shake the hand of the guy. They know each other from high school. Like old friends. They talk with smiles on their faces. Joyous for the reunion. It passes after a minute or two when it dons on the guy- we are here because we have a child in the hospital.

I saw the way the mood shifted and he says do you know someone here. He says we had a baby and she had a complication. They small talk about it and then he says his son spent months in here as well when he was born premature and she’ll be fine- she was in good hands. He was there that day for work. A conference I think. And it ends as quick as it began. They say their good to see yous and take cares. And we walk on to emergency where Gma and Gpa parked. I looked at him that day. I looked how different it felt being the ones that had sympathy eyes given. It was something I hadn’t experienced before and the weight was heavy. It was so foreign. 

It was monumental how quickly we respond to others. What we hold on to when we are put into familiar situations- he encounters work people everyday. I love watching him. He still makes me in awe of him more than 20 years later. In that moment we didn’t forget our daughter, but it was a lightning quick the switch to normalcy when he saw him. Almost forgetting he wasn’t wearing a suit himself. And, when they both saw it, hospital bands, it was reality. And that was hard.