June 7th, 2006. Beau is stable enough to Kangaroo him. I'm so excited all the way to the hospital. I can't wait to hold him again. Mothers should be able to hold their babies.

We arrive in early evening and I'm bouncing with excitement to hold him. I'm all set with my button up shirt and front snap bra. When we walk into the NICU there's two new babies, a mom on a stretcher, and a dad. The mom is beaming at one of the babies, the one not getting all the attention from the doctors. He's small and pink, but doesn't move much. The father looks serious and worried. The doctors cluster around the other baby. He doesn't look good. He's very dark red, almost purple and he's limp. I have a sinking feeling when I see him.

The nurse won't let me hold Beau with all the commotion. I'm angry. I feel robbed. It wasn't bad enough to go through all of this, now they're going back on their word to let me hold him!? There's nothing I can do but sit with him and touch him through the isolette and read him a story. I cry the whole way home.