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.