a Nurse Pinning, a Life Pinning

My littlest sister graduated from Nursing School this past weekend - she is a big deal out there saving lives and caring for humans and listening deeper because that is what she promised to do in her essay to get into school.

When a nurse crosses the bridge from student to becoming a nurse, they have a beautiful ceremony called a Nurse Pinning to celebrate their learning journey, like a rite of passage. You get pinned by someone of your choosing and about eleven minutes before the start of my sister’s ceremony, she called and asked me if I would be the one to pin her on stage.

My family was in the car about twelve minutes away from the front door to the ceremony and I start to feel that familiar feeling I get when I am going to cry, my heart beats faster and my throat start to tense up with a giant cotton ball at the center and my eyes dart left to right as if willing myself with tense movements not to cry. I said, ‘wait, me?’ and the tears welled and then came pouring out.

Of course I said “yes I would be beyond honored and thank you for choosing me”. We then parked the car and I did that weird run-walk thing where you are almost shuffling to get to the ceremony on time and figure out my part on stage with her.

The ceremony was really wonderful and such a special experience seated at a large round table with my parents, both my sisters and their beloveds and Chris and my girls. As we were called to get in line, I could feel that familiar cotton ball of emotion. I kept it together for the most part in line but then we stepped on stage and it was all over. Thankful for a mask to hide my emotional face as I was beyond saving at this point with every tear signifying how proud of her I was, how her commitments shone through, how much I love the person she is and is becoming and all the people she will get to heal through not only her incredible knowledge but also deep empathy and compassion she some times tries to hide.

Later that night at dinner, I asked her why she chose me. I knew I had supported her in writing her application essay but beyond that was not sure why me?

And she told me something remarkable. She said when I went through my trauma four days after having Evergreen (our first daughter), she knew she wanted to be a nurse. She knew she wanted to be there to help people in delivery and postpartum and baby care.

I experienced a PPH (postpartum hemorrhage) days after delivery (more uncommon) in which I lost a quarter of my blood supply and had surgery to remove a blood clot the size of an orange. There were moments in the ER when Chris and I were surrounded by teams of doctors after I had fainted off of the toilet or going into surgery blind because they could not figure out what was going on via ultrasound or signing paperwork with language no one should have to read about your life after bringing life into the world. All while my four day old child was in a waiting room with my parents and sisters wondering where the hell I was. It took me an entire month, the first month of my child’s life and Chris and my new life as parents to begin to recover in which I had to have family members and friends fly in to care for me. Chris caught me fainting days in a row trying to walk from one bedroom to another and I had to eat more iron in the form of meat and mussels to build back my blood supply that I would ever like to do again.

A scarier moment in my life that I have healed from many times over.

And yet, when my sister asked me to pin her, my entire worldview changed.

She told me that experience solidified her decision of where in nursing she wanted to be of service. Going through that was what made her want to become a nurse in the L&D, postpartum and NICU wings. And one of my darker days then had light. It now has a light that will continue to serve and support the World because my little sister is there in that hospital to support you.

I know I was pinning her and celebrating her journey but damn, if she didn’t pin me right on back to celebrate mine. A gift to be human in the journey, in the dark and the light, with sisters and perspectives we have perhaps yet to receive. Remain open, the pins will find you.

Thank you to my littlest sister, Kat Bailey Carr. I don’t even know if you know how incredible that was for me to pin you. I was and still am so honored and I am so proud of you then, now and forever.