False alarm: we had to stay another night. But that’s OK. Little bit is getting better.
Perched upon her little bed;
A queen, golden mohawk on her head.
She breathes through lips so pursed and rosy
An oxygen tube inside her nose-y.
She sighs and sleeps while mommy peeks
at her chunky arms and oh-so-plump cheeks.
Fluids run through an IV,
to hydrate and heal our sweet little pea.
There she lay beneath her blankie
finally calm after a morning of cranky.
Every second, my heart grows bigger
as I watch her fight this cold with vigor.
And as she heals on this confetti floor,
my love for her grows even more.
(if that’s even possible).