As the story begins you imagine yourself,

a twenty seven week old baby in your Mother's womb.
Complications set in and you feel you're in for doom.

Arriving at the hospital my Mother and I.
I scream, "Hurry come check us so we don't die!"

We're in need of your help,
Mom and I are sick, hear me yelp!

Checking our blood pressure, taking our temperature, testing, testing all these people working around us.
What a lot of attention and surely a lot of fuss.

To see what is happening to us.
Poking and feeling "ouch" is a must.

Questions and more questions arise.
"No real answers," the Doc says to my surprise.

More testing, more questions. What's going on?
Mom's getting weaker, time to call Daddy Tom.

Daddy Tom arrives, the Doctor fills him in.
He prays to God for Mom and I to fight and win.

Before I knew it, Mom and I were being prepared.
I'm getting a little scared.

Oh, oh, I'm getting sleepy and so is Mom.
The room is quiet and so is Daddy Tom.

As I sleep inside my Mom,
the Doctor is very calm.

Wheeling us into the operating room,
its dark in this little womb.

I feel as though I'm coming out soon.
It must be somewhere around noon.

There's a vibration, a silver sharp object is entering Mom.
The Doctor's hand is very calm.

He sees me inside my Mom's womb,
there's a light coming into this dark little tomb.

Mom's feeling worse, I think she's dying,
The Doctor lightly taps me and I start to crying.

Mom was so sick, she left me.
Dad was told and sad was he.

I was placed in this special box in the critical ward.
I being only twenty seven weeks old, I could head toward...

being dead myself, But, I want to fight.
Being not fully prepared for this world, I sure was a pitiful sight.

Yellow as can be and so teenie weenie,
that they call me a premature preemie.

Special care has to be given to me,
that's why I'm in this special box you see.

Dad worrying about me, pacing the floor.
Back and fourth, from door to door.

Doc advises Dad that I'm in special care.
Dad just saying, "It's not fair!"

Dad losing his wife and gaining a Son,
he's not in for a lot of fun.

Worrying about me, hoping I'll live.
So he can give all the love he has to give.

I had a rough night,
trouble for me, isn't yet out of sight.

I'm two days old today,
striving to live longer with each new day.

The Doctor advises Dad, I had a rough night.
Dad cries, "Is he alright?"

The Doctor replies, "We have a lot of hope, it takes time."
Dad says, "That's great! I'll get some sleep in the meantime."

Dad went home to get some sleep,
I lay quiet, not even a peep.

On my third day of being alive,
I'm better and that's no jive.

The Doctor's proud of me.
For the yellow color is disappearing you see.

I'm eating better and gaining weight.
The Doctor calls Dad and informs him things are going great.

The fourth day, I was moved to nursery two.
I'm still in a special box, soon to be moved to a new...

bed like the rest of the babies here.
Dad was so proud of me, he sheds a tear.

Day five, I'm moving around now, crying to be fed.
Today they're moving me to my new bed.

I feel stronger than ever before I'm gonna win.
Dad comes in he feeds me with such a grin.

"I was so worried about you," Dad says to me,
I smiled back and began to pee.

Dad started getting wet from me wetting my pants...
that he began whispering little loving chants.

"Thank you God for this sweet little boy.
He'll bring me a tremendous amount of joy."

On day six of my life I get to go home.
Dad was sad because of Mom dying, happy because I get to go home and roam.

I'm glad my Dad's very happy with me.
I still see the sadness in his eyes over Mom, you see.

I'm leaving now with my wonderful Dad.
For this I am so very grateful and glad.

See, I'm smiling as I leave the hospital. Hospital stays are no fun.
Now to see the world with my Dad and have some real fun.