Incoherently Yours

I remember tiny fingers wrapped around mine. I remember dark eyes looking up at me. I remember rubbing my chin against her soft, down orehead. y, dark hair. I remember them laying her on my chest for the first time. How it felt like there was nothing there. I remember her little “elephant machine”, her little CPAP machine, squishing her pug nose. I remember the joy she brought. I remember the phone call. The drive in. Standing there watching in shock as they performed CPR on her. I remember them taking me into a conference room and tell me she could die at any second. I remember standing in the hallway, trying to figure out how I was supposed to call Sheldon and tell him. I remember 12 days of ups and down. Of hope given and hope dashed. I remember reaching out in faith like I never have before. I remember the terror and the dread. I remember having to say goodbye. I remember the last time they laid her on my chest. I remember reading her the stories, and singing her the s

                Seeing as the title “The Book of Eli” is already taken, I guess we’ll have to go with “The Story of Eli”.                 He is my third baby. You’d think I’d know when I’m in labour. Like, really, it’s not like I haven’t done this before.                 But we were in unchartered territory. 37 weeks. Three full weeks farther than I’ve ever made it before. I figured that would make labour more apparent. Not so.                 I was spending the day with my sister and her family at their grandma’s house. As the afternoon worn on I just started feeling a little off. Braxton Hicks had become good friends with me in the previous weeks, and at first I thought it was just them visiting again. But then they got more frequent. But not painful. Nor with any sense of regularity.                 My doctors nagging voices were in my head. I could hear them saying, “If you have more than two contractions in an hour, get to the hospital!”                 It was advice I