A haunting poem...

The parents who donated to create the NICU family lounge in Georgetown - they sadly lost one of their twins - are honored with a plaque that incorporates a framed poem written by the mom. The poem haunts me, because it encompasses some of the helplessness I feel holding Harper.

They say we’re NICU Parents

They say I’m your mother. But how can that be? I can’t lift you to my breast and nurse you.

You’re saving your milk until I can drink. Your love nourishes me now.

I can’t take you out for a stroll. I can’t show you the beautiful world outside your isolette.

You teach me something new each day. I see the beauty of the world in your eyes.

I can’t hold you in my arms. I can’t kiss your cheek or whisper in your ear. How can I be your mother?

I’m holding your finger with my tiny hand. The warmth of your presence soothes me.

They say I’m your father. But how can that be? I can’t give you my heart or kidneys to make you better.

I see you watching my monitors and studying my chart. You’ve learned so much to help me heal.

I can’t rock you to sleep or tuck you in. I can’t hold you on my lap and tell you a bed-time story.

You read to me and call my name. The sound of your voice makes me stronger.

I can’t fly you over my head. I can’t tickle you or fill your room with toys. How can I be your father?

I love the musical parrot you gave me. Do you see how my oxygen sat rises when you play it?

They say we’re your parents. But how can that be? All we can do is pray. All we can do is stay by your side. All we can do–is love you.

Thank you for being such good parents.