One month ago, I went in for what I thought would be a routine ultrasound. It was our first ultrasound of the pregnancy, and I was excited to see our new baby. As it turns out, they could not find a heartbeat, and that ultrasound turned into an ER visit, a transfer to the main hospital, and an urgent surgery. I saw many people that day- nurses, PAs, doctors, ultrasound techs, clerks, more doctors, more nurses - all of whom asked why I was there and who heard my story- I was having a miscarriage. Every time I had to explain, I was reminded of the loss of my baby and the loss of the future I thought we would have. To make matters worse, now I was facing surgery. I was so sad and so scared.

After 12 long hours in the ER, I was transferred to pre-op, where I met Stephanie, who was assigned to be my OR nurse. She was the first person that day to say, “I’m sorry you’re going through this.” Those simple words meant so much to me- she understood, she cared. Just a few words from her put me at ease. As a nurse myself, I know the importance of offering comfort and compassion to patients. But so often, that comfort and compassion is overshadowed by all of our responsibilities – new orders, labs, meds, documentation – the list goes on and on. Stephanie was the one person who made me feel seen as a person who was grieving, not just a patient for whom another thing had to be done. She offered comfort and empathy, and her simple words- “I’m sorry” - took away some of the pain. I will always remember Stephanie and be thankful for her help on one of the worst days of my life – not just for the care she gave me as a patient, but for the reminder she gave me as a nurse – that our patients need not only to be cared for, but to FEEL cared for.