10:08, the minute you are born. I’m exhausted and my body’s worn.
Immediate bond and skin-to-skin. Feeling you no longer within.
Bittersweet, holding you so close to me.
Nine long months we’ve waited for this, to love on you, little sis.
But the nurses like to intervene. “Track her diapers and her feeds.”
Watch the clock, time passes by. Now it’s late, 3:05.
Your daddy sleeps across the room, and I can’t stop watching you.
But tick tock, gotta keep an eye on the clock.
Now you’re one week old and it’s 2 a.m. Soft white noise and lights on dim.
I haven’t slept since who knows when, just track the hours til you eat again.
But I’ve watched the clock for too long, I don’t know where the time has gone.
You’re three weeks now and it’s late at night. I’m so tired, but I’ll be alright.
These days will soon be in the past, ’cause hands go ’round the clock too fast.
“The blink of an eye” will come too soon, and just like your sister, you’ll already be two.
So I’ll keep my eyes off the clock, pay no mind to the tick or the tock.
I’ll watch you and your sister grow, and pray for these moments to go slow.
I’ll capture each memory before it goes away, ’cause tomorrow quickly becomes yesterday.