At 7:51,I heard the cryThat made me a motherAll over again. Tiny.Bald.Perfect. I held IsabellaWhile the room hurriedAround us. Then her sisterDecided she hadHer own plans. One tiny armReached where it shouldn’t,And suddenlyThe birth I imaginedBecame the birthWe needed. An operating room. Bright lights. Hands moving quickly. Pain that grewToo heavy to carry. I kissed…

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