what I thought:

40 full weeks,
so ready.


small overnight bag waiting patiently by the door,
clean and organized home stocked with all the necessities,
a sweet little nursery decorated modestly with a few carefully chosen things.

calm ride to the hospital,
taking the practiced route,
holding hands with him.

complication-free labor and delivery,
my perfect baby.

lots of cuddling,
marveling over fingers and toes,
leaving the hospital together, a newly formed family.

what I got:

water breaking far too early,
not ready.

more fear,
and even more fear.

toiletries thrown haphazardly into a red shoebox,
half-eaten pizza abandoned on the dinner table,
an unfinished child's dresser sitting out on the patio.

miserable ride to the hospital,
blinking back tears, lungs tight with worry,
clutching and clenching his hand.

tough decisions,
labor and delivery,
my perfect baby.

taken away,
watching him through plastic,
ten eternal days of tubes and monitors.

stumbling out of the hospital alone, drowning in an ocean of tears.


  1. Love this style of writing. And I am forever grateful that you did in fact get to take your sweet boy home eventually. :-)

  2. This is utterly beautiful and just brought tears to my eyes; thank you for sharing.

    A million best wishes to you, your family and your little one.