Our Little Hand
“Through the grain of black and white, we see her.
There’s a little face with a tiny nose. A smile peaking below.
There’s a tiny chin with chubby cheeks.
Eyes and ears - waiting to see and waiting to hear.
Elizabeth and I see each other in her.
We see two feet. Ten perfect toes.
We see a hand.
Just one.
Always, a little fist that holds on.
She has always held on tight with that little hand.
Maybe she’s holding on to something intangible. Something abstract. Something ethereal.
Maybe she’s holding on to us.
We’re 30 weeks now. They said she wouldn’t make it this far.
She’s holding on. We’re holding on.
Soon enough, we’ll get to hold onto that little hand.”