By Kim Ladd
My name is Kim Ladd. I am a SoULL student and a registered nurse in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) in Chicago. I work in a world of monitors, alarms, lights, sounds and distractions, a place where small infants and often very ill, tiny humans are connected to beeping ventilators, IV alarms and heart monitors. This technology is vitally important to saving small lives. But there is a lot more going on there than our technology measures. And maybe a lot more to saving a life than we usually talk about.
I remember a text sent to me by a father of a tiny, premature infant in our NICU. His daughter had been in our unit for several weeks. Slowly and surely she was growing bigger and stronger. On the day she reached a 4 pound milestone, Dad texted me: “if only she drank her bottles. We need to work on that... she needs to practice… so we can go home...” I listened deeper. She wasn’t developed enough neurologically to do this. But I heard his frustration; if only she drank her bottles… it was a measurable task. It had an end goal dad could understand. Doing this equals go home, which is of course the measure of success in the NICU. I heard his language, but I heard the language that dances on the energy of life within the tiny baby. I took a deep breath, quieted myself before responding.
What I wanted to say to this dad was this: “This baby needs you in order to grow and develop so she can drink her bottles. She feels safe when held against your skin, laying on your chest or upon mom’s warm full breasts. When she looks into your eyes, she connects with life energy that is secure and full of love. She listens to the rhythm of your heart as it beats a familiar and comforting sound, she knows so well as she grew inside her mother. She breathes a rhythm of calmness.” I wanted him to know that he was doing and providing so much more than he can see.
In my mind’s eye I could see how babies lay upon their people. I see their small fists unfurl while laying safely upon her parents’ skin. It is like a flower petal unfurling in spring, full of hope and promise. This is a season of human life as well. It is in this energy she blossoms, from this she is given the strength to drink from a bottle and go home. It is this familiar beating of heart that quiets the sounds of the NICU, if only for a few hours a day, where safety, familiarity, comfort and love are the primary energy of this space. It is the rhythm of life force. In this connected space of safety, love, and reciprocal energy she develops fully, brain, body and soul.
I breathe in deeply and let that breath out. I send dad a simple text that reminds him that he is helping bring his baby girl home, he is connecting, touching, exchanging energy and supporting her growth. I reminded him that the quiet connecting moments are doing important work, that this fosters the neurological maturity that will have her drinking bottles and leaving the NICU, safer and stronger than she was before.
“Thanks, I needed to hear that”, responded dad. I felt a shift in his energy. The language of life.
Bringing this calm, rhythmic awareness to the NICU and to parents is what I do. But holding this awareness hasn’t always been as accessible.
As a young child I can remember feeling connected to all the energy within and around me. It was a magical aliveness. I always knew there was a different kind of visceral life energy, understated in healthcare and too often in life. It was always there, deep in my bones without language. It was a sense, a feeling, a stirring. Intuition. As I grew older I began listening outside myself. Social norms, institutions, technology, and the expectations of others separated me from my own senses. I began to lose this inner language. I have a memory of things feeling untrue, but I had no one but my tiny self to help protect this truth. I began to lose my inner language. How do we quiet the noise of the world and touch the energy of life? Can these energies of technology and this knowing deep inside me coexist?
Fortunately, my work in the NICU reawakened this truth. My heart and soul knew what I did in the NICU was true. It wasn’t measured just in science and data, but in life energy, in feeling and in presence. But it really helps to have support for this knowing. Pilgrim SoULL for me was like this baby finding the safety of her parent’s skin. In this community I could validate my truths. I felt safe to explore my feelings about the intuition we all have if we slow ourselves down enough to listen.
Physics has proven energy always remains, redirected, released, but it’s always there.
In SoULL I learned that our energies are reciprocal. We each have an energy in flux, moving, changing and responding when we connect with others. With this support, it feels like I’ve come back to myself, to my people. The fuller I am, the more of me there is to share. I imagine it’s ripple effect as I connect with the families and tiny humans I serve. Quieting the noise.
Header image by Tembinkosi Sikupela
