She’s calmly asleep in bed, I’m on the couch wide awake and waiting.

I have to breathe.  It is all I can do.  I can’t help her or him or Silas or the past.  I am in stasis, hovering, hoping.  I have to breathe.

Struck dumb.  Silenced.  I can’t…  There’s no way to…. Just… us.

Lu grows larger by the moment with our second son inside her and everything I want is right there next to me, within her, and I can do is wait.  The wait has been…

I have to breathe.  In through my nose in calm inhalations, out through my lips.  Like we were taught in the birthing class last time.  Now I’m the one who needs it but it doesn’t seem to take.

Give me everything that comes next.  I am…It is simply impossible to describe how finely wrought are the molecules of my soul, down to the edge, the breathless, bitter, blazing edge of hope and of fear.

My nervous system is firing spasmodically whenever I think of what is coming next, exactly next.

Friday we drive to the hospital together and avoid all obstacles, hand keys to valet, hand future to doctors, wait, hope, focus, hold hands, wait, hope, focus, beg.  Hope… wait… swallow my fear and lay back into the couch as I breathe and wait, again.