Of Course

Maggie Devers

Her feet were purple when she was born,

The cord pinned between her shoulder and me.

Half a dozen extra doctors and nurses had converged in the room moments before,

All of me open to all of them

As my doctor, the one I started with so many weeks ago,

Back when she told me they don’t use the tongs anymore,

Suction cupped her tiny head and yanked,

I breathed,

And the baby entered this world with a mighty howl.

In seconds all the contingency actors vanished.

The center of the room, the universe,

Was a tiny creature, fists tight, mouth wide, screaming.

Of course she was born the only way she lives—stubborn and fearless.