NPM Day 10 Definition of Torture
I was seven months pregnant when you arrived,
two months early, but you survived.
Daddy rushed me to the hospital and the doctors sat me in a room.
It was hot with no windows, stuffy, and gloom.
This isn’t the way you were supposed to arrive, we had a midwife and pool just our size.
The doctors did their best and performed every test to keep you inside. But, all the probes and ultrasounds they tried to do ended up making it worse for you.
You kicked the probes and hid from the machines. I told you home was better, see what I mean?
More than anything I wished you could get some rest. Your heart was overworked because you were so stressed. It would rise, then would drop, but the scariest part was when it stopped.
The doctors rushed me away telling daddy to stay out, and seconds before they sliced me in two, they found you.
Your heart rate was steady and they were ready to begin, but not without letting daddy in the operating room.
You emerged from me with the tiniest of cries and I remember the first time we looked into your eyes.
3 pounds 5 ounces.
Then the doctors wrapped you up and whisked you away, telling daddy and I we could hold you only once a day.
THAT is the definition or torture.