... babe whose heart rate kept dipping precariously with each push, and then became more and more sluggish.
... baby girl, with shoulders that insisted on coming down together, rather than one at a time.
... you, sweet little baby boy, with your funky heart rate tracing throughout labor (but always reassuring variability) - and then sudden easement into the world, while I ran to hunt for a second catheter kit.
... little boy, cord around your neck so snug, with your exposed head darkening as your mama worked so hard to birth the rest of your self.
... baby, sweet, baby, when your mama's water finally broke (after all of those bouts of pre-term labor); instead of being there to meet you, I was snug in my bed, oblivious to the call from the Midwife that you were ready.
To each baby and mama that I've missed
- by fault or by circumstance -
I'm happy that you were in the caring hands of the Midwife...
I only (selfishly) wish that you had been in mine as well.
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