Lying in the cold sterile room
Tentatively tracing a soft pattern on the chair.
My husband’s ashen face
Staring blankly at the bleached white walls.
Calming myself with each breath
Waiting patiently for the news.
She slowly enters with a kind smile
Immediately I feel my anxiety weaken.
She looks at the intimidating screen
Suddenly the frantic sound fills the room
The sound I will never forget, but long to hear again
The sound of a thrashing propeller somehow submerged in water.
The screen becomes a transparent window
For the first time we gawk at our child.
How I have prayed and imagined seeing him.
How I have worried for everything to be alright.
We entered with unspoken concerns
Leaving with joyous hearts
Proof of our little child
Growing healthy with the strong sound of love.