Dear Son,

All I ask is for a beating heart.

Please. Please. Please.

Reminding myself to breathe is as hard as your first solo breath will be.

There are no words for this feeling. Do I even feel? I am so unnattached from my body because it's not mine anymore. It's been yours for 39 weeks and 1 day. Your dad and I don't care about this body anymore. I think I'm still in there somewhere but who cares what happens to me as long as you eventually come home safely.

So much pain. Indescribable pain. This body of mine is falling apart absolutely determined that you are not going anywhere until I know there is a place for you at Children's. Keep with me, babe. I can hold out as long as you can.

Your short life has been hell for you and my heart breaks 25 hours a day. I can't tell whether the physical pain of my early labor pains is worse than how bad my heart aches for your safety.

We will conquer all the other obstacles after we come home as a family. Please, baby boy, please just make it home.