( This was a situation 16 years ago when my wife was expecting our youngest child. Unfortunately she had a fall  which put her into labour and our son was born 6 weeks premature and spent 4 weeks in intensive care. It was touch and go for both of them at the time but they came through it. Our son has now grown into a strapping 6 foot athletic, bright young man after such a traumatic entrance to life. )

 

Can you hear me, hear me?

Splishing, sploshing, splashing,

Making waves,

In my cosy warm bubble.

 

Can you feel me?

Wriggling, twisting, turning,

Tickling your ribs with a finger or toe.

But not the elbow; no, I won't give you the elbow !

 

I can hear you, hear you,

Talking, laughing, louder and louder,

Joking, sneezing, sighing,

Yawning, tiring, tiring.

 

I can feel you,

Walking, slipping, tripping, falling and rolling.

Sharp pains, stinging, gripping,

Knotting, grabbing and controlling.

 

Blue lights, bumpy ride, paramedics astride.

Fixing tubes, checking time,

Listening, discussing,

Pulse rates, heart beats, gas and air.

 

I'm not ready, not ready yet.

The pressure's building, building.

Can you hear me mother ?

I'm fighting, fighting but fading, fading.

 

You're stressing, fluids draining,

Eyes closing, head spinning, body fainting.

Surgeons moving quicker and quicker,

Cutting it fine, just in time.

 

But the clock's still ticking.

For seven minutes still ticking.

Not breathing, not moving,

Flatline sticking.

 

Then a twitch, a gasp, a yell, crying, crying.

I've made it, made it !

Can you see me mother?

I've made it !