I can spread my fingers across her chest, span
the width of her rib cage. Asleep, she seems so fragile,
but that is not the story I want to tell her.
I want her to know that she is strong enough
to endure nine months of gestation, thirty-two
hours of labor and all of the living she has ahead.
But this will come later. Today, I steady her breathing
with my palm, feel her heart beat under my thumb
and help her sleep a few minutes more.