"I Don't Know How You Do It." Well, let me tell you.

When I tell people what I do - I'm a Pediatric Critical Care Nurse - I often get the same response. "I don't know how you do it. I could never do that." If I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I wouldn't need to be a nurse anymore, I could retire. But I'm sure I speak for my peers, as well as myself, when I say we know how and why we do it.

I started my nursing career in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit at a nationally-ranked Children's Hospital. The PICU can be a rough place. It can also be an incredibly magical place. I remember crying nearly every day before and after work for the first three months I worked there. Knowing I could miss something that could cause my patient to crash was incredibly stressful. But because I knew I could make a difference each day, I kept entering those PICU doors for 5 more years. I loved the children and the families I met in the PICU.

A couple years ago, I started working with that hospital's critical care transport team. Our team is made up of a Pediatric Nurse, Pediatric Respiratory Therapist, and sometimes a Neonatal Nurse Practioner (if it's a sick newborn, or we are heading to a delivery). We travel by ground and air transporting kids- premature neonates to teenagers- to that same nationally-ranked Children's Hospital. We are an extension of the PICU. I use my same skill set, just in different surroundings.

Sure, I still find myself crying occasionally about how unfair and cruel life can be, but I can't imagine working in any other field. As sad as this world is, I get to see incredible acts of humanity and miracles that give me goosebumps. I always swore during nursing school that I would never work with kids. In fact, every time I stepped foot into the Children's Hospital for clinicals, I would cry. I couldn't handle it. My clinical instructor would actually make me sit in the lounge because I was such a hot mess. I was already a mother and just kept imagining what those parents were feeling. I guess I see why people say what they do about not being able to do what I do - I once was one of those people.

Being a pediatric nurse in a critical care has given me something that I really needed. Perspective. Perspective on life. Perspective on what's REALLY important. It's frustrating when I hear people complain about petty things. I want to jump up and shout, "Hey, come to the PICU for a couple hours and you'll be so happy with what you have!" Witnessing a child take his last breath completely changes you. Doing compressions on a tiny little chest is a feeling you don't forget. Hearing a mother screaming her baby's name as he leaves this world is deafening. Rocks you to the core. Things no longer matter.

And as many sad stories as there are, there are also the miracles. The little boy who walked again after a terrible car crash, the little girl with the beautiful smile who had her heart operated on and is now thriving, the baby girl who nearly died of urosepsis and is now a rambunctious toddler- that's why I do it. For those kids. For those families. Kids have amazing spirits. They are filled with hope and innocence. They are resilient and don't give up. I am so thankful that God has put me in a field where I can see Him working everyday. I may not always understand His plan, but that's not for me to figure out. All I can do is have faith and know that I'm where I'm meant to be and care for those He puts before me.

My career has made me come home every night and hug my children a little tighter than I did the night before. It's made me treasure the times when I just get to hold them and rock them to sleep. Kissing their chubby little cheeks. Nibbling on their little toes. Hearing every little belly laugh and holding on to that sweet sweet sound.

I know how I do it. I do it because there's nothing else I can imagine doing. The things I've seen and learned in the past 7 years have made me who I am today, and for that, I am thankful. We may not always get a "thank you" or "job well done," but we know we make a difference. That's why and how we do it. I'll never forget what one of my friends told me prior to my interview in the PICU and I just didn't think I would be able to do that job. She said, "Someone has to care for those sweet, innocent children. Why not you?" Yeah, why not me? So thankful I entered that interview. My life hasn't been the same since.

Life is short, too short sometimes. Honor the ones you love and hold them close, say the words you want to say - you don't know if you'll get the chance to do so again. It can all change in the blink of an eye. Literally.