A Poem for the Life’s Little Treasures Foundation
45,000 babies, born premature each year,
Life’s Little Treasures mission is simple & clear,
Providing information, assistance and care,
supporting research and making people more aware.
The parents of these Treasures, those who experience,
The setbacks, the triumphs, all so random in appearance.
Words cannot adequately describe the emotions they feel,
But the one thing that’s for certain it all feels so real.
As each day passes, their baby’s progress observed at length,
They will him or her on with all of their strength.
They wait and they wait for that call on their phone,
For that day that finally, finally they can take their child home.
Then a whole new set of circumstances unwind,
And it is so important to keep a positive, open mind.
All of these challenges are more easily met,
By going to https://lifeslittletreasures.org.au on the net.
That Life’s Little Treasures works with babies under 600grams,
Think about that at breakfast, when you are holding that jam.
These babies so tiny, born weeks, months prematurely,
This work deserves all the help it can get, surely?
By
David Gamble
Time stands still
Time stands still, the day has arrived
A baby born early, has he survived?
Emotions are torn, what should I do?
Lost in a world that’s so new to you.
The baby is rushed into NICU care
Mum on a table, it doesn’t seem fair
A mother and baby, two floors apart
Separated by distance, connected by heart
You stand on the outside as the scene flashes by
The team go to work, don’t let him die
Tubes and machines keep him alive
You pray for a miracle, let him survive.
The doctors they tell you, prepare for the worst
Your world tears apart your dreams are immersed
He is far too small, he has a battle ahead
You search for some hope in the eyes of the Ped.
The day turns to night and the team goes away
A doctor and nurse are the only to stay
The clock goes so slowly yet the hours still pass
Your try to reach out to that face behind the glass
Your life is the monitor you watch every beat
You watch every breath; you don’t leave your seat
You don’t leave his side he is your blood and your life
You would give your left arm and so would your wife.
A father’s pain is hard yet it only seems token
Compared to a Mum who lays battered and broken
Her dream has been robbed and so has her joy
Her only life’s wish is to hold her new boy.
As night starts to deepen you start to reflect
You start to question what to expect
You try to reason you try to make sense
You feel joy yet your pain is intense
The longest night in history draws to a close
The day that stood still, the day where time froze
The smallest human you have ever seen
So tough, so hard, courage unseen.
Hours become days and days become weeks
Weeks become months, with falls and peaks
The road is long the journey is hard
The climb is tough your mind is scarred.
But your family and friends are there, you’re not alone
You soldier on regardless as NICU becomes your home
Those brilliant doctors and staff are there on your ride
With those Angels of MERCY there at your side
How can one so little be so tough and brave
And defy all the odds that once looked so grave
A heart the size of the MCG in a body built so small
He took on every challenge and answered every call
Sometimes when he is sleeping, I sit there at his side
And appreciate every second and watch him with such pride
Our boy came home, his battle was hard, the lucky we were among
Some Angels stay there forever, forever they are young.
Dad Sean Simpson- 2007
Welcome to Holland
“I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability—to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this:
When you are going to have a baby it’s like planning a fabulous trip to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make wonderful plans. The Colosseum, Michaelangelo’s David, the gondolas in Venice. You may even learn phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting!
After months of eager anticipation, The day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later the plane lands. The flight attendant comes and says, ‘Welcome to Holland.’
‘Holland?’ you say. ‘What do you mean Holland?’ ‘I signed up for Italy.’ ‘All my life I dreamed of going to Italy.’
But there’s been a change of flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy. Less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath,
you look around and notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is coming and going from Italy. And they’re bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. For the rest of your life you will say, ‘Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.’
And the pain of that will never, ever go away because the loss of a dream is a very significant one.
But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, You may never be free to enjoy the very special, very lovely
things about Holland.
© Emily Perl Kingsley
A Perfect Choice
Finally, God passes a name to an angel and smiles, “Give her a premature child.”
The angel is curious. “Why this one, God? She’s so happy.”
‘Exactly, smiles God, ‘Could I give a premature child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel.’
‘But has she the patience?’ asks the angel.
‘I don’t want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair.
Once the shock and resentment wear off, she’ll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother’
‘But lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.’
God smiles. ‘No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness.’
The angel gasp, ‘Selfishness? Is that a virtue?’
God nods. ‘If she can’t separate herself from the child occasionally, she’ll never survive.
Yes, there is a woman whom I will bless with a child in a less perfect way. She doesn’t realize it yet, but she will be envied. She will never consider a ‘step’ ordinary. When her child says ‘Mama’ for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.’
‘And what about her patron saint? Asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air.
God smiles. ‘A mirror will suffice.’
Welcome Baby
Welcome Baby to our world
how brave of you to come.
We are here to welcome you
as your journeys just begun.
Here’s our opportunity
to help each other grow.
To experience all the things,
alone……we would not know.
You have been successful,
from your very start.
Just welcoming you, has made us all
release love from our hearts.
So remember little Baby
as you grow into your dreams.
Everything in this world
Is not what it seems.
Welcome others into your world
and it is there, that you will find.
all the love you ever knew
was never left behind.
© 2003 – Christine Michaels
Sometimes you get discouraged,
Because I am so small.
I’m always leaving finger prints
on furniture and walls.
But every day,
I’m getting big,
And soon I’ll be so tall,
And all my little fingers,
Will be so hard to recall.
So here’s a little handprint,
You’ll remember with a smile,
On Mothers day, 2006,
When I was just a child.
Precious one,
So small,
So sweet
Dancing in
on angel feet
Straight from Heaven’s
brightest star
What a miracle
you are!
My Sweet Little Angel
I look at you now, my sweet little angel,
and I cannot believe what i see.
You’re looking back, my sweet little angel,
looking back and smiling at me.
It is such a surprise, my sweet little angel,
how happy you seem to be.
Because I was so scared, my sweet little angel,
at what kind of mother I’d be
But you’ve taught me how, my sweet little angel,
to know exactly what you need
I’m not always right, my sweet little angel,
but you are so patient with me.
I am your teacher, my sweet little angel,
but you’re more a teacher to me.
You are now growing, my sweet little angel,
and growing together are we.
– Ashley Phillips
Daddy’s Lullaby
Close your eyes my pet, I will sing for you,
it’s a lullaby I never knew,
in this world you know, some things must come and go,
but my world is all in loving you.
It’s a simple song, and it’s words are true,
and I’ll do the best that I can do,
as I write this song, how can the words be wrong,
when they’re all about my loving you?
You’ve got Mommy’s eyes, and now I realize
God has blessed my world with loving you,
you’ve got Daddy’s nose, a joke I suppose,
but it’s still, what makes up you.
As you close your eyes, here’s a prayer or two,
While you sleep I will be here for you.
Things might come and go, but this you’ll always know,
Daddy’s lullaby is just for you.
© 2000 ron wilson
As I Love You Through The Glass
As I love you through the glass
a tiny hand sweeps across the blanket
reaching out to me.
You lie there in the stillness
of your slumber clinging to life;
I reach inside to touch you
and you stir slightly;
I feel a tiny breath like a feather
caress my fingers
as I love you through the glass.
One eye opens
easily staring into mine;
Can you see me?
Can you feel my presence
as I love you through the glass.
I ache to hold you;
I await the moment
when you peacefully rest in my loving arms.
A silent tear rolls down my face;
I slowly turn to walk away
only to glance back one more time
as I love you through the glass
(c) 1998 Elena Murphy All Rights Reserved
In the Palm of My Hand
For so long, my darling boy
I’ve held you in my dreams
Now its hard to believe but it seems to be true
that this child I am holding is you.
They told me you were much too small
Far too early to have much of a chance at all
But you opened your eyes and I knew right away
that you’d be home with Mommy and Daddy some day
You are joy
In the palm of my hand
Girl or boy
Now I seem to understand
that all I ever will need
and all that I ever could want
and all that I ever have dreamed
is right here…
in the palm of my hand.
I thought I knew what courage was
I thought I was so strong and alive
But my son you have shown me how strong and alive
That the tiny’st of souls can be.
You are the light that guides my way
Through the darkest and loneliest day
You’re the miracle they told us that never would be
But now you’re here, here with me!
You are joy
In the palm of my hand
Girl or boy
Now I seem to understand
that all that I ever will need
and all that I ever could want
and all that I ever have dreamed
is right here…
in the palm of my hand.
In the years as they grow day by day
I will watch you discover and play
And I’ll hold you my boy, with the greatest of joy
Filled with wonder at what you might be.
You fill my life with unending love
And every day I will thank the stars above
For the gift I received on the day you were born
And the light that you brought to your parents that morn
You are joy
In the palm of my hand
Girl or boy
Now I seem to understand
that all that I ever will need
and all that I ever could want
and all that I ever could dream
is right here…
in the palm of my hand.
In the palm of my hand,
In the palm of my hand,
In the palm of my hand,
there is love
I can hardly believe
that you’re here in my arms
still you’re here
here you are…
in the palm of my hand…
– Jeffrey Steefel
If you want to know the vale of a fraction of a SECOND,
Ask and Olympic sprinter who has missed the GOLD.
If you want to know the value of a SECOND,
Ask the person who has missed an ACCIDENT.
If you want to know the value of a MINUTE,
Ask a person who has missed the TRAIN.
If you want to know the value of a HOUR,
Ask two lovers waiting to MEET each other.
If you want to know the value of a DAY,
Ask the editor of a NEWSPAPER.
If you want to know the value of a WEEK,
Ask the editor of a WEEKLY.
If you want to know the value of a MONTH,
Ask a mother who had delivered a PRETERM BABY.
Author unknown
One Day At A Time
Just another check up, just another scan,
tomorrow you’re having your babies….
that’s not part of the plan!
Robbed of your last trimester, no more time inside,
your stomach is flat, your plans, your dreams swept
under the mat.
Your babies are taken to recieve the best care,
but you ask yourself, is this really fair?
What’s going to happen? Are they going to grow?
No wonder the tears start to flow.
One day you’re up, next you’re down,
caught on a rollar coaster on the wrong side of town.
Another event, another chin lift,
sitting on your lazyboy, into a dream you drift.
Why me? If only? What’s the use?
Your mind, your spirit totally let loose.
Each day you get stronger and learn to cope
and most importantly you never give up hope!
As one day you will walk out with your babies in your arms, free of the wires, monitors and all the alarms.
– Sharon Fraser
Baby
A wee bit of heaven
drifted down from above –
A handful of happiness,
a heartful of love.
The mystery of life,
so sacred and sweet –
The giver of joy
so deep and complete.
Precious and priceless,
so lovable, too –
The world’s sweetest miracle,
baby, is you.
– Helen Steiner Rice
A Thousand Tiny Fireflies
A thousand tiny fireflies
Parading through the night
Illuminate the starless skies
With incandescent light
They are miracles, here on earth
So bold, so strong, so wise
And bring to life a sense of worth
For those who lack great size.
Some of this life’s smaller treasures
Are the ones which matter more
Than the larger joys and pleasures
That we have grown to adore
Volume is not as essential
As the gift that lies inside
Smaller souls with much potential
© 2006 – Jill Eisnaugle’s Poetry Collection