Seven years ago I was thrust into a world I didn't really know existed. The sights, the sounds, the smells that were all so foreign have become so ingrained in my being. The fear that you might miss a feeding if traffic held you up. The anxiety that another episode would further delay going home. The terror of the night that she turned blue in my arms and the nurses flew into action bringing her back to living color. The anguishing tears I cried walking the halls of the hospital after each setback. The safety of monitors and oxygen levels. The normalcy we tried to grasp by changing the baby blanket in the isolette to bring a little bit of home into this sterile place. The comfort the nurses gave; they became friends and cheerleaders along the way.   Seven years. She's healthy now. Though any medical issue causes a clench in my chest. Three ear surgeries. They've gotten easier in some ways, but having to recount her birth trauma to each doctor and nurse along the way