It was the day of Paiges birth,
and I was shaking.

The nurses strapped my arms out on each side,
and put a curtain below my neck.

Another cesarian section, mixed with fear, and apprehension.
She was coming too early.

I heard my heart beat,
not on the machine in electronic pulses,
but in my throat,
my ears,
my fingertips,
the room was slowing down
and all I could hear was my heart beat.

The doctor cut me open,
and started to take our daughter out,
I looked to my left,
sobbing, happy, frightened, confused, concerned,
and there were his eyes.

" My wife needs me "

" I have the rest of my life to spend with my daughter "

That moment, our eyes met,
tears filling his eyes
so apparent and clear from the sterile operating mask
that would be my memory of birth,
the fear,
the pain was gone.

And then silence,
silence...

I counted to ten.

"Breathe"

And a soft cry finally came,
we saw her for a fleeting moment,
she was going to Intensive Care.

She had come too early.

Lyman Abbott (1835-1922)