When I was younger, I never considered nursing because I didn't like needles or bodily fluids. Then I became a mother and quickly got over that. I daydreamed about a possible nursing career "someday" as a stay at home mom, but still never was too serious, still wasn't sure I could hack it.
Then, in 2014, my infant daughter died in the NICU after severe and sudden (and extremely rare) pregnancy complication in my third trimester. After the dust settled, I realized, I can do hard things. I can survive hard things, and I can thrive.
More still, I had the most incredible nurse in the world take care of me while I myself recovered. (I had mirror syndrome, which nearly killed me). This nurse sat with me, she held me, she cried and prayed with me. She held my daughter. She talked and laughed with me and told me where to find the best pizza in the city. She made me feel like life could go on once I left that hospital.
About a year and a half after this, my mind was made up. I finally knew I was strong enough to succeed, I am motivated to give it everything I've got, and more than anything, I want to be that nurse that I had at the lowest point in my life for somebody else. Someday, I dream of going back to that hospital and finding my nurse and telling her that I got into a nursing program and that it was she who inspired me to do it.
I'm only about to begin my third semester of prerequisites in the fall, but I have a 4.0 from the two semesters I have under my belt so far, so I feel good that I can do this if I stay motivated and work hard enough. I'm pretty sure that I've never wanted anything more than this besides knowing I wanted to be a mother, which I am. So, here is to nursing!