THEY CAME WITH THE FORSYTHIA | Peg Padnos
After Gwendolyn Brooks’s “We Real Cool”
Twins arrive early. Often in distress. We
were ready. Till late April’s labor pains. Surreal,
us speeding to the hospital, slow-breathing to keep cool.
C-section. Record speed. Mewling cries in stereo. All we
see: two isolettes whizzing past, blur of one tiny foot. Us left
behind. Waves of nausea. Waves of tears. Like our first day of school.
Scrubbing in with surgical soap. Even in sleep we
sensed the rake of plastic teeth, the antiseptic stink lurk-
ing in the creases of our palms: iodine & hexachlorophene. Late
evenings in the Unit, wondering what wisdom we
might glean. Why prematurity? Because clocks strike
before it’s time? Or, gravid wombs run out of room? No straight
reason or rhyme for the bitter sweetness of a NICU stay. We
glimpsed babies smaller than a breadbox. We heard a parent sing
drinking songs to his newborn son, as apnea monitors beeped. Sin
ironia? Maybe, maybe not, those kids would survive. We
waited for met milestones, ounces gained. Still scrawny-thin,
our boys, tethered to oxygen & feeding tubes. Jamaican gin-
ger snaps & ginger tea calming our queasy nerves. (Back then we
had no CBD.) For lactation’s sake, half a glass of beer. Jazz
riffs on the radio. Driving back: Dave Brubeck’s Theme for June.
Assurance from a friend: They would get through. We
could thank the cooler nights. The blossoms would not die.
Not yet. But soon, the nurses said. Babies home. Home soon.
Peg Padnos became an RN at the age of 45, inspired by the NICU experience of her twin sons. Now retired, she is a full-time poet based in Western Michigan. Her work has appeared in American Journal of Nursing; Bear River Review; Busy Griefs, Raw Towns; Harvardwood Anthology of the Seven Deadly Sins & humble pie. She is co-author of the group collection Waterlines (Three Pines Press).