Poem

Some days are better than others. There has been nothing in particular that has happened today to make it a harder day, but it has been. I guess speaking with a cardiac surgeon, a cardiologist who specializes in pacemakers, a pediatric intensivist, a neurologist, a speech therapist, a physical therapist and an occupational therapist all in the span of like 5 hours is just a little much.

On the bright side, they are hoping to get her 100% on breast milk tomorrow, I got to change her diaper for the first time today, they think they will finally let us hold her tomorrow, and I get to see my little boy tomorrow, who I miss something fierce.

So today seems like a good day to share a poem written by my awesome doula, Tammy. She sent it a couple of days ago and it just really captures how I’ve been feeling.


For Jeni

Tubes snake around my daughter
Feeding her
And feeding on her;
Too small
To have words for the things they are doing
The things she is hearing, feeling
Too new to remember anything about fear or doubt,
Accepting
All we give her
What we think she needs,
What they tell us
Must be done.
But my right hand wants
To rip out the tubes
Rip out my hair
Rip out anything blocking her perfection
To reveal the essence of this child,
Let her butterfly wings unfold
The rest of the way.
You should see her smile
Sweet lips without the ventilator
You should hear her cry – music!
Unencumbered by tape
We should be able to hold her close, new skin on old
Or swaddled in something hand-knit
As we pass her back and forth
While she sleeps.
I want to rest my head on her tiny pigeon chest
And listen to her heart beat
Listen to her very center
Drumming steady, strong and true.
So I wait, holding onto this vision,
Left hand holding onto the right,
Tight atop my own heart
Pulsing
To the rhythm of hope.

T. Sandel – May 17, 2011