The Early Days of a Micropremie
Day 1.Hands pull me into the cold and the light. I can't open my eyes in the brightness. I'm wet and cool. I'm placed on a flat surface. It's warm. My body is straight; I've never been straight before. More hands wiping; hard things in my nose, my mouth, my throat. Voices, clearer and louder than before. My chest filled with pressure; full like never before. Something was pressed over my lips making my face feel stiff. I can feel the tube moving in my chest. Fluid filled my lungs before air pushes into them. Life is cold, bright, loud and exposing. Hands pick me up and move me. My head rolls back before a hand slides under it; my head is heavy. Then it is softer and warmer on another flat surface; the loudness is a hum; the brightness not so painful; I am moving. Not the lumbering, swaying motion of before but a more even motion, except for the jarring bumps. I briefly open my eyes and see a bright blur. Hands pick me up again. Another flat place, brighter again, until my eyes were covered and darkness soothed me. A probe in my rectum; things stuck to my chest; a tightness around my foot, all while my chest is filled with air again and again. I try to breath but I can't against the force of the air already going into my chest. Hands pull my arms and my legs out. Bands around my limbs are soft as they pull them to the sides. The lifeline to my mother is pulled and my belly rubbed; it is startling, rough, wet and cold. Then I was covered. The warmth and the dark are welcomed nothingness as pressure and pulling continue on my belly. There are people talking; things banging; machines humming. Too much to take in; my head feels all jumbled. I go to sleep. In my sleep there are bright lights and loud voices. back to top |
