And hospital volunteer Steve Urbanovich, like many here, brought family over on his off day to observe the spectacle.
“The fact that they landed on the labor and delivery floor is absolutely fantastic,” he said. “It’s amazing.”
As the state budget crisis and spiraling economy amplify already disheartened news cycles, “we all need something to make people happy, and this sure does,” volunteer Mary Vincenti said.
On the balcony the ducks bask in the sun, eat organic feed and bathe in a collapsible swimming pool donated anonymously. They’re happy here, said secretary Lisa Van Noordwyk.
At first, staff fed the ducklings ground crackers, until someone donated a 25-pound bag of organic poultry feed.
They soon outgrew a wash basin provided by staff and were given the swimming pool, drinking basins and blankets, she said.
“We feed them each day, clean their pool and look to see if all nine plus the mama are there,” Van Noordwyk said. “They’ve become part of our everyday lives.”
Inside the nursing office and neonatal intensive care unit, past a statue of the stork and Dumbo, Van Noordwyk has included the mother duck and her growing family on official census boards.
But instead of text, staff drew the ducks with a yellow marker. People call the ward daily to check on the new family, she said. People even grow concerned when gardeners water the plants, said Nurse Manager Jeanne Cole.
The ducks were allowed to remain after hospital officials unsealed the door and made the balcony available as a break area. Momma duck’s repeat visit has led hospital workers to speculate whether the female ducklings will return to the same place next year to lay their own eggs.
Van Noordwyk contacted a duck rehabilitation specialist at the Humane Society shortly after their early May birth.
He advised hospital staff on proper care and told them ducks are mature enough to fly after 60 days.
“You could see them now, stretching their wings and getting ready,” she said. “It’s just a matter of time.”
The Ruiz family looked through the waiting-room window onto the sleeping ducks.
“Could we buy one?” said Manuel, 8.
“I don’t think so,” said his mother, Valery. “They belong to everybody.”