and so, almost eight months later we sat
in unseasonably warm sunshine
in the park within the hospital grounds
overlooked on one side by the NICU
and i imagined those nurses,
who i truly do believe are angels,
taking a break from alarms and charts
and life and death to look out of the window
at the children and their parents down below.
seeing, but not recognising us.
seeing our little world and not realising
that without them we wouldn't have been sat there
in the afternoon sun. we would never have been three.
and my gratitude was and is overflowing.
thank you doesn't even begin to cover it.
i count my blessings.
a thousand times a day i count them,
that he's here and healthy and got to come home.
in eight months he has grown my heart a hundred fold.
my cup runneth and runneth over.