20  •  2021  •  Developmental Observer

Julia Giesen, NIDCAP Professional 
Edmonton, Canada

P O E T ' S  C O R N E R

Today I tried something new
To change my usual point of view
From seeing through the baby’s eyes
To focus on what I could surmise
For tips and tricks I could relay
To nurses to improve their day

What could I glean from what I feel
This little one tries to reveal

What kind of help does he need
How can I teach a nurse to read
His cues and signs of hanging on

Keeping it together, then moving on

Slipping down, losing touch
When all of it becomes too much

When breathing pauses get drawn out
And he has nothing left to shout

That he really needs our help
But has no energy to yelp

How can we leave him at his best
So he can breathe and get some rest

Moving softly into sleep
That is robust, healing and deep
So that when he does awaken
Energy is not from him taken

To open his eyes and turn his head
And look up out of his bed

And meet the eyes he’s coming to know
Will be there always to watch him grow

    —Julia Giesen

“What Can I Say?”

DOI: 10.14434/do.v14i1.31819

Hello again from Edmonton! Julia Giesen 
here with a second reflection to share 

from my NIDCAP training. This poem is 
from an observation in July 2019, this time 
on a little boy named Benson. Benson was 
born at 30 weeks and was six days old. For 
this observation my trainer asked me to think 
about what I would like to communicate to 
the nurse looking after him in the NICU. I 
watched as little Benson paused in his breath-
ing for longer and longer, dropping off to 
become unavailable. I recalled my NIDCAP 
Trainer saying one goal of every newborn is 
to interact with his or her caregivers. I had so 
many questions running through my head.