My Birthday 4:10pm

I am 6 hours, 10 minutes old

I look up and see my daddy. He looks sad. He feared I was dead. 6 hours since I was whisked away from him.

My body is covered in tubes and electronics.

I can't breathe.

I have a tube down to my lungs. A machine pumps in the distance. My little chest rises and falls.

I can't eat.

I have a tube in my belly button. A machine pumps in the distance. Liquid flows into my veins.

They need to test my blood.

I have a tube in my arm. They take blood from my veins. But it is good. They want so desperately to help me. They are amazing people. The doctors. the nurses. the midwives.

They need to test my heart.

I have sensors on my chest. And lots of wires. They measure my electricity.

They need to test my oxygen.

I have sensors on my arm. They are heavy. My arm is heavy. I cannot move it.

It hurts. My body hurts.

They need to scan my head. But I wear a little wool hat. It has a flap. They open the flap and scan me

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. I feel the ultrasound rippling through me

I sleep and all is not well