My Special One
There was no joy when I gave birth,
Scary words kept getting worse.
When my baby boy was born
Every face was quite forlorn.
He came fresh from our Creator
To be placed in an incubator.
I could not take him in my arms
Or shelter him from any harms.
Doctors all had dooming words.
Negativity was all I heard,
“He may never… and he may not ….”
Oh, how I prayed this would stop.
He was two days old when I was told
I could finally see his new face.
Tubes and wires were every place
In a sterile, see through trundle,
Where there lay my precious bundle.
Suddenly, I was not as sad
Because my son looked like my Dad,
Who had amazing, sure willpower.
I couldn’t have heard God any louder,
Saying, "like your Dad, your son’s a fighter."
And fight he did, my beautiful son,
My heart, my love, my special one.
For three months he grew and thrived
Defeating all odds of staying alive.
Then on hospital day ninety-five,
He came home on his first ride.
... CayCay Jennings
October 3, 2015
Copyright © Caycay Jennings | Year Posted 2015
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