Children of the NICU

Think hospital.  Think needles and probes.  Think what it’s like for the youngest.  They’ve hardly entered this world, and already their bodies struggle.  Yet there’s a song that comforts them.  My friend sings, “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.”  She sings of how precious they are to Him, and she sees a little crease forming at the side of their small mouths, lifting into a smile.  She cuddles these young ones who often haven’t known life outside their hospital incubator.  No puffy white clouds in a blue sky.  No sunshine or fresh outside air.  They live among beeps and blinking lights and sterilized equipment.  My friend initiates some of their first conversations, introducing them to the scenery of their future walks in the park.  Some endure the loss of their twin who is healthy and already at home.  Many love the quiet, exhibiting a cringe at any loud clanking.  They enjoy the comfort of the Cuddler’s heartbeat that follows the rocking motion of her chair.  The sense of touch is a wonderful blessing.  My friend sees their tensions soften, and their reaction compares to the gentle release of air from a balloon, in that their little arms and legs finally realize a way to relax.  She often rests a baby on her shoulder or nestles one in her forearm, blessed also to meet many moms and dads who talk of their own side of the trauma.  It’s an opportunity to lessen the burden of a scenario that's difficult for many.  I think of her soft voice singing the name of Jesus to each little ear, resting in each little bed, being blessed by the only perfect Love that knows the intricacies of their medical situations.  Inside the walls of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, the Lord is present, bringing us to the aid of each other.