Ode To Emalee- The Baby That Lived Poem by Lydie Mathers

Small and sweet handle with care
Her life is weak, the baby with strawberry hair
I weep and stare as they accuse
But I never left so much as a bruise
On my knees in my Mother's embrace
Sobbing, as they tell us this little one's Fate
She may not wake but if she does
She will never be again what she was
So tiny and dear only 3 months old
I hold her perfectly formed hand and it is so cold

The Law man comes and the questions begin
Finally I am told it was he, it was 'HIM'
So furious I can not even think as he holds me back, this man of Law
I lunge and screamat 'HIM' as he passes in the sterile hall
I collapse in his arms and the Law man says we will find a way
I whisper back, 'Please don't let him go make HIM pay'

The days go by and she makes a turn
I hold her without tubes as she learns to eat from the bottle again and my eyes burn
Home we go
To start on that long recovery road
Our days are filled with doctors and therapy
The first time she smiles and laughs again so happy

Now she is 10 and a beautiful child
She is however sometimes wild
She is not blind, she CAN walk and talk
She is not deaf or challenged mentally and her doctors balk
Her brain will never be quite right nor will her memory
She is growing up strong, the strawberry haired baby

Never Ever Shake A Baby! ! ! !
For Emalee my Guiding Light