(An ode to premature babies)

One cold, dark morning she was born,
A baby born-too-soon;
She weakly cried and barely moved,
The helpless mother looked on.

With warmth and breath we did support,
The wires and tubes were done;
The NICU cocoon would be her home,
For many weeks to come.

The machines did help to turn her pink,
Our skills were at their best;
The fluids and meds would do their bit;
Our prayers would do the rest.

The days went by, so did the weeks,
She fought a lot of wars,
Infections, bleeds, to name a few,
Some even gave her scars.

Then, love, science and patience triumphed,
She grew, we saw her charts;
She looked, and kicked, and even smiled,
She stole away our hearts.

And when the day to part arrived,
And all our duties done,
We thanked her for the time she spent;
“Farewell, O little one!”