The American Lung Association says...

"If you can't breathe, nothing else matters."

Photo credit: yalemedicine.org

Have you ever kept vigil for a child with asthma?

BABY’S BREATH

Shortly after I weaned her

from my breast at eight months,

she endured her first asthmatic attack.

I hadn’t even known

what asthma was,

though I soon came to know it

as the violator

that stole my baby’s breath.

Her little chest rose and fell

in tumultuous heaves.

Haunting rhythmic wheezes

and mournful moans

disquieted me

hour upon hour

for days...days.

I re-attached the umbilicus.

During one intense episode,

I bathed her, rocked her,

sang soothing lullabies,

read stories

she was too young to understand,

trying to relax us both,

all to the constant

wheeze and moan,

rise and fall

of her straining rib cage.

I tucked her spent frame in the crib

and kept vigil,

daring not to close my eyes,

daring not to leave her side.

What if it got worse?

What if…she stopped breathing?

I reclined, just to rest awhile,

weary eyes wide

in faithful night watch,

weary ears tuned

to the eerily whistling

wheeze and moan,

wheeze and moan,

wheeze and moan,

ad infinitum,

ad infinitum.

At some point,

like a shameful apostle

at Gethsemane,

my heavy lids closed.

Suddenly,

I jolted awake,

bolted upright,

stunned

by the startling silence.

In panic, I reached frozen fingers

toward her…

O praise God!

She lay warm

and gently breathing,

sleeping the peaceful sleep

of an angel.

Maude Carolan


The above poem originally appeared in Sensations Magazine.