One more time

One more time

Have you ever just wanted to do something

one more time?

Take me back to the January 7,

to when I fought so hard to get my own chair,

as uncomfortable as it was, just hold her.

Take me back to the colors of the room,

or the pictures on the walls.

To the sounds all of the nurses, doctors, therapists,

and all of the medical personnel always around.

To the noises from my mom and Shane.

I would want to hear the vital signs monitors again,

even as loud and annoying as they can be.

I would want to study her telemetry,

 and see what rhythm she was in.

I want to study her oxygen levels,

her nasal cannula, and the dressings on her face.

I want to look at her NG tube again,

and notice the true beauty in that tiny tube.

I would want to study every little thing about her,

talk to her until she falls asleep, hear her cries,

change her diaper, and dress her one more time.

I want to open the windows, and see the outside,

because on that day, I had never noticed the weather.

I didn’t get to see the vibrant sun outside,

until it was time to say good-bye to her and walk away,

through those black, sliding entrance doors.

It was beaming so bright,  yet I felt so cold and hollow inside.

If there was one day last year, that I could re-live,

it would be the day I had to say good-bye

to my two month old baby girl.

If I could have told her one last thing,it would be,

that I hope she knows how much she was loved.

I would tell her that mommy and daddy would trade spots,

in a heartbeat, just to give her a full, long, vibrant life.

I would tell her that she has, hands down,

the best biggest sister ever.

I would tell her, in my final words,

that God will take care of her, better than I ever could.

If I could choose any day in the last 12 months,

It would be to spend one more day with Rochelle.