The floor was a whole new world; it was night and day different from the NICU. It was like things slowed down, and the days felt like I could control them. For instance, we had consistency with our nurses and would have them for four days straight instead of new ones daily. We only switched rooms twice, and one was only for our first two days because Caliyah’s room wasn’t ready yet. We also had space! I mean real space, like a bathroom inside our room, we could eat in our room, stay the night, and had a designated parent space. I never thought a room in a hospital could bring me such joy, but it made our stay comfortable for once. I even got storage organizers for her closet (from an IG Auntie), brought her a full wardrobe from home, and made an effort to dress her in cute outfits every day. The floor's goal was to make the transition home smoother, so they encourage you to be hands-on. I did everything from giving Cali a solo bath, preparing her food through a pump, and administering medicine.

By now, you can see a trend in our hospital life, good days happen, but they don’t always string together. Well, Caliyah still needed to have her hearing test. They had tried two times, but either there were too many machines, and it threw off the results, or they couldn’t get Caliyah asleep. On their third try, it was heading in that direction, the audiologist called and said they were trying to get Caliyah asleep, but everything they were doing wasn’t working. I told them to rub her forehead forward, and just like that, after two hours of trying, she settled minutes later. You see, the goal for Caliyah was to hook her up to probes while asleep and check for brain activity based on the different frequencies and pitches of sounds. Rome and I weren’t concerned; we had been singing to her, I was reading, and we felt like she was responsive. Even though the doctors told us that 50% of Pfeiffer kids have a hearing loss, we thought it would be moderate, or she would be that other 50%.

I remember the call like it was yesterday; Rome was on a work call, so I took it solo, expecting good news. She said Caliyah had significant hearing loss. The lowest sound she was able to hear was a crying baby and flying airplane. My heart dropped; I didn’t hear much after that. She explained she had conductive hearing loss, but I didn’t know what that meant at the time. ( Long story short, it meant with the right hearing aid she would be able to hear speech sounds) I was being told my little one was deaf, she hadn’t listened to our voices, and I thought that was our connection. I broke down into tears. I don’t know why it hit me so hard, but it did. I spoke to my therapist that next day and she helped me get through those emotions. What it came down to is, I thought that was our love language; I thought we bonded over our time reading and talking to her from when she was in my belly to the hospital. She explained, she still felt the love, and that is what I have to refocus on. She saw my smile, felt my energy, my touch, and that our bond was still strong. I had to think about how I show up in her room; how I love her is so much more than what I say, but it’s my actions and how I show up. So I leaned into that and became even more intentional with thinking about how Caliyah wanted to be love. So she got 100X more smiles, long days of snuggles, and kisses.

That was hard news to take, but I was greeted by the best call the following week. The hospital said they would allow two caregivers to visit once, and it was a day before Mother’s Day. All I wanted was to spend my first Mother’s Day as a family, and it happened. I didn’t realize how important it was for all three of us to be together. I was thankful for technology, but as we all know now, it just isn’t the same. After such a stressful week prior, I needed this week so bad, and oh, was it perfect. I walked into Caliyah’s room, and my little one and her nurses had made me two beautiful hand and footprints cards, and she was all dressed up. We took family pictures, read books, got some mama cuddles, and had a visit from our NICU primary nurse. The best part was when we walked in, and Caliyah saw both of us on each side of the bed. She was so excited, she kept kicking, looking back and forth between us. Even she could tell this was a special treat.

Rome and I left so grateful for those few hours, her progress, and even through tough news we had each other, and that will always supersede anything else.