Twelve Weeks early

Your tiny form, strong yet vulnerable
Your wild movements with weak muscle,
Looking so fragile, yet your control
Your full control over my whole
Caused my womb to bid farewell.

I watch you, my eyes adoring.
With tiny hand, tightly gripping
My finger, gauche when comparing.
Beautiful your form, even the bruising
How delightful you are now growing

As with each hour, by comparison
Improvements in your condition
Start to appear for observation.
My love it grows in unison.
You are all my attention.

And who would have imagined it?
Us both here in the special care unit?
Your skin with special lighting lit.
I would never have thought to commit.
This happens to others, doesn’t it?
My womb lies bereft of where you fit.