Heart Rhythm

I wrote this while sitting in the hospital prior to our god-son's birth. Kayvion arrived 11 weeks early, but less than two months later was able to go home, safe and healthy.
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For years I wouldn't have been able to sit in this room. To spend the night would have been too painful, but to sit awake an even worse punishment. To work away to the rhythm of a heartbeat, disguised only slightly by the protective fluid between it and the monitor... a special version of water torture for a barren woman.

But over the last two days I've spent many hours sitting here, listening for a heart rhythm that's speed is comfort, for slowing down is what caused mother and child to be here. And I sit. And I chat. And I work and am thankful for a hospital with wifi.

And I'm not bothered by a rhythm that has become my white noise. It's actually a comforting sound. That little rhythm is the sound of my god-son, who doesn't need to arrive until December.

And this tells me I am stronger than I thought.
And that my God is a better healer than I sometimes remember.