I am Prematurity

I am prematurity.


I am the chart that reads 0/3 – three pregnancies with no children.
I am the tears on a Labor and Delivery hospital room bed.
I am the spikes on a contraction monitor.

I am the sadness in the doctor’s eyes at 22 weeks.
I am the steroid shots at 24 weeks.
I am the crowded operating room at 27 weeks.

I am the NICU.
I am the isolette.
I am the tiny child swaddled in wires.

I am the parents’ fear.
I am the roller coaster of emotions.
I am the dance of two steps forward, one step back.

I am the ABCs – apnea and bradycardia.
I am the pulse-ox monitor.
I am the alarms sounding desats.

I am the oxygen.
I am the feeding tubes.
I am the stimulation.

I am the new normal.
I am the haze and fog.
I am the time in between – after birth but before my due date.

I am the parents.
I am the nurses and doctors.
I am the family and friends.

I am the miracle of a tiny breath.
I am the miracle of life.
I am a miracle.

I am prematurity.
I am aware.
We are hope.