No One Came To Visit

5

newborn
A true story

No one came with flowers
no one came with pink
balloons or candy
no one brought pink dresses
to fit a new born –

Mother, she knew

No one believed
or wanted to see a child
who entered this world
a little over a pound –

medical men told her,
“She won’t survive the
night.”

Mother, she knew –
she knew when two men
visited
knew only one – but
knew of the other
one man sat to her right
one man to her left.

These visitors did not
bring balloons or candy
or a pink dress for their
new grand daughter –

a baby who would fit into
their palm –
a baby with tubes in
temples –
a body to small and
needles too large

both men died before
the birth of her child

her father spoke to her,
her father in law
listened. . .

“Don’t worry she will
survive and make you
proud.”

Medical men entered
her room and mother
smiled.

Medical men warned
her – “Babies this small
do not survive.” –

Mother, she knew –

Daddy entered her room
she smiled.
told him their little girl
would survive

he pulled a chair up to her
bed, held her hand, and
listened. . .

He probably smiled back
he must have warned her
to face the truth –

mother, stubborn,
she believed.

A few days passed,
the medical men told her
again –

a week went by, and she
smiled –

two weeks, the medical
men stopped talking of
death

Mother peered through

glass at her baby –
lying inside a metal box –

inside with tubes and monitors
with no one to touch a child’s
grey skin.

She watched as a chest
was forced to expand

she prayed to herself –
she waved good bye –
thanking the Medical men –

telling them she would be back
every day – to watch a child
who barely opened her eyes.

There was no touching,
or cuddles, no wrapping
of tiny fingers around her own,
no legs kicking, or laughing
when a child yawned, thinking
it was a smile

no one talked about their
little girl –

no one asked about the color
or her hair – her eyes or her
personality

no one asked if she looked
like mother or father . . .
no one talked.

Mother, she believed.

Every day – from summers
end into dead leaves of fall
onto ice on city walks,
she walked up a hill
to the hospital to stare
through glass –

her walk home – eyes filled
with tears, she recited an
Irish prayer.

Every day after work
father walked up the hill
to stare at his child he
could not hold –

laying naked inside a metal
bed with tubes still
attached to her forehead.

He watched as nurses
tapped the soles of her
feet – to keep her awake
to suck on a miniature
bottle – she began to eat . . .

It was the day before
Christmas – a snow
filled sky – when news
arrived – she could come
home.

Three months and ten
days after her birth
she weighed five pounds –

nurses wrapped her
in tiny booties
a white undershirt
a small pink dress – now
snuggled up inside pink
blankets

with open arms – mother
held her little girl
peered into her open eyes
pinched her little hands
and feet.

Mother, she knew

On Christmas day inside a
neighbor’s car they brought
their little girl home.

Mother looked at my father
and said, “I told you so,
she would survive.”

It was beneath their
Christmas tree – laying
inside a red wagon –

my older brother next to me
a red bow tied around my
forehead –

Christmas and I finally
made it home.

Mother, she knew.

Nancy Duci Denofio – all rights reserved @2011

5 Comments
  1. gabina49 says

    Beautiful poem and so wonderfully written. My niece Kati was born only two pounds and her mother and my niece never gave up. What an amazing way to descrive how wonderful your mother felt when you came home.

    1. Nancy Duci Denofio says

      Thank you so much – and to think I heard this story all my life, no wonder why my life is always filled with hope. If you read Conversations with the Dead, you will know who it is, immediately. And this too, is true. I have so much to share and the only way is through words. Sincerely <3 Great to get to know you. Nancy

  2. Nancy Duci Denofio says

    Thank you so much – you know, when you hear about a miracle all your life you believe, and when it happens all your life, with various things – you know there is something more. My mother passed away at a young age, but if you get a change to read “Conversations with the Dead.” Please do, it explains how her power of believe was passed on to me, and how we are still connected, and others have this same ability to communicate. It is true. It’s been so nice talking with you lately. Sincerely, Nancy

  3. Donna Carrick says

    I have no words. My eyes are burning. Lovely.

  4. Nancy Duci Denofio says

    Dear Donna – I can’t believe I never saw your comment, please forgive me for taking such a long time!!!! Thank you for taking time to read this – and yes, even for me it’s hard to imagine a mother and father going through this today – and to think of so many years ago – walking back and forth, wondering. My mother, she knew. I believed her, she knew when things would turn out right. Always, Nancy

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