I’ve worked in the NICU for eleven years, but nothing prepared me for the night Claire Donovan’s baby arrived. She was just 27 weeks, blue and fragile. Claire had once been my head nurse, and five years ago, reporting her mistake almost cost me my career.
Now, fate placed her child in my hands. Her tiny body struggled for every breath. I stayed calm, adjusted her ventilator, monitored every lab, and stabilized her. Claire, exhausted and tearful, thanked me—but never recognized me.
Weeks later, the baby was breathing on her own. I didn’t need revenge or recognition. I chose integrity. I chose the baby. And that was enough.
