Purple Baby Pride Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

A TRUE STORY

My daughter was close to one year old
And my wife and I had gone to sleep.
Little Amy had a terrible fever,
So between us she laid on top of sheets.

At four a.m. I heard a scream,
Blood-curdling is how I describe.
My baby girl was laying there purple
Also having dead looking rolled back eyes.

I heard my own self screaming,
And felt my horror rising very fast.
We both seemed to be running in circles,
It was time to use my training from the past.

I slapped my wife to get her to focus,
To call an ambulance out to our home.
I listened to the chest of my sweet baby,
No breath or heartbeat my wife said on the phone.

I gently pushed the head back on my baby.
I covered her nose and mouth with my own.
Her lungs were seen inflating oh so slightly.
It was time to go to work in her heart's zone.

I placed my palm between her breasts and sternum.
I pulled up on my fingers with my other hand.
And gently pumped liked squeezing out toothpaste,
When Amy jumped back to life that was so grand.

Her crying now was better than any music
We'd ever heard before or will again.
Our circle running now was done for praises.
As we do every day since way back then.

My daughter Amy now gave us a grandson.
The apple of her eyes but of ours too.
And she encourages others with her nursing
Like Florence Nightingale once used to do.