People

They've given me little dolls to rub my scent on.
A tag wrapped around each neck, explains they were donated by the local Catholic church.
I imagine someone like Nanny sitting around with a bunch of other ladies like Nanny, speaking softly while putting together these simple creatures.
I have two.
One for Elliott and one for Reese.
They're made of printed fabric.
The head is a ball tied off at the neck. The body is the remaining fabric, left to drift like a ghost.
Reese's doll has puppy dogs in strollers.
Elliott's has tractors.
These are the ones I have with me.
There are also two more in their beds right now.
This way we can switch them out, so I can smell them, and they can smell me.

I lay them in my lap with a few pictures taken in the NICU, while I pump breast milk.
As the days go by, the storage bags get fuller.
I count the ounces as though it were some measure of my love; my usefulness. When I'm done pumping, Jesse seals the bags and brings them directly to the nurses.

Tomorrow I get discharged. I go home just one day short of a month after my arrival.

The nurse has told me that getting the staples out wont hurt.

I don't want to go home.
I want to stay here and be on bed rest for eight more weeks, like I'd planned to.
I want to be put in a coma til time has caught up with us, and everything is as I wish it were.

But tomorrow I go home and begin reclaiming a part of my life. I do feel a deep need for some normalcy. I want to cook my own food, set my own schedule, and see people in a normal way, rather than being visited.

The full force of this experience is approaching me. I'm glad it wasn't sooner, as the staples in my belly couldn't withstand that kind of breathing.

They always said that each day I kept the babies in my belly was like three on the outside.
Maybe I needed three days inside myself, before I was ready to receive today.

I am all love.

Most of the time it makes me laugh,
and sometimes it makes me dream about wolves,
and right now it has me a bit oozy.

It's more than I could ever hope for, or dare to have.
With nothing equitable to give in return.