“He’s My Son”

He’s My Son – by Margaret Hall

You lie there. Unaware of the panic that now surrounds you.
Your head bobs with each compression. Yet still you lie there.
You make no noise, while inside I am screaming.
You have not yet been introduced, yet Daddy’s heart hurts with love.

I turn to him now, and wait…
The silence is unbearable. I wait…
A single tear runs slowly down his face. Yet still, I wait.
I cling to hope and faith and pray that soon the silence will stop.

You are fighting so hard, I can feel it.
You already bear the scars of a courageous war.
You are beautiful, perfect.
Don’t give up now.

Brave warriors join you in your battle.
They heard your silent calls for help.
They take you from this fear filled room
And surround you with warmth and your first glimmer of life.

Comforted by the machines that now support you,
We adapt to our new role as spectators of your fragile beginnings.
The rise and fall of your chest is addictive to watch
Not daring to look away, for fear it might stop.

Your leg starts to shake. My heart misses a beat.
You shake all over now, and an alarm sounds.
Once again your silence is heard
And the brave warriors return with unquestionable vigilance.

They fill your precious body with healing liquid
And you return to your silent post.
Days go by and slowly but surely your enemy shows signs of defeat
The rise and fall of your chest is fighting against the machines
And you inhale your first scent of life.

We are full of emotion as our skins touch for the first time
We cry and imprint this memory in our souls
We stare at this work of art, taking note of every line,
Not wanting to forget a single moment.

There is cryptic talk of damage to your brain
I am sure that this must be wrong
It feels unreal and we look at you lying there so innocent
How can this angel be so perfect and have so much that is wrong.

The tears fill our eyes as your life is unveiled
And we hurt deep inside for the loss of a boy we once dreamt of,
But here is this child so handsome and strong

Our purpose is clear, no more questions need asking
He is perfect, he is needed and loved, and most importantly,

…. He is my son. ♥

Noah, 7 weeks - February 2011

Noah, 7 weeks – February 2011


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