Here I am a couple of hours before.
Twas' the night before (pre-term) labor, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. (Thank Goodness, I hate mice!)
The dishes were done, and drying with care,
In hopes that the next day, there'd be more time to spare.
My child was nestled all snug in her bed,
When a few contractions came with a dread.
I drank loads of water, with intentions to slaughter,
These imposers who came much too early with bother.
Upon a call to my Doctor, it was almost midnight,
I was instructed to lie on my side without fright.
More water, then I'd pee, it was very clear to see,
This night was simply, not meant for me.
My boyfriend timed the contractions with heed,
As time shortened between, they began to impede.
Out of the townhouse and into the car,
The trip to the hospital was not very far.
The nurses calmly ushered us in,
Ready with swabs, and monitors to begin.
The IV was swift, the test results not good,
I knew I’d be staying in this neighborhood.
Contractions soon shortened, as the shots continued,
I was hopeful, relieved and no longer blue.
The nurses were kind, not one step behind,
The Doctor’s who left me a solid peace mind. (I really do love Bergan Mercy)
Forty-eight hours was my stay,
Though charged to bed rest that very day.
Worry is a funny thing, it creeps right through,
It reminds me of all the things I still must do.
My boyfriend and family sometimes give me a shake,
They say I could use a little more of a break.
I’m convinced baby knows this fact too,
So there is only one thing left to do.
I will enjoy this span without lists and life juggling,
Instead I will relax without even struggling.
My baby boy’s health is my sacrifice,
For him, it’s simply not worth rolling the dice.
