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Baby AvaPink baby bunting cradles the tiny bassinette. Colorful helium balloons in shapes of circles, stars and hearts dance joyfully above the little one, keeping a silent vigil, protecting the newest family member. A new baby scent wafts through the air, igniting my maternal instincts, hurling me back in time thirty years. An unending line of friends and family parade by the tiny crib, paying tribute to the long awaited miracle, offering congratulations to the admiring parents. The tightly swaddled infant, with her untapped potential, is like a tiny sponge, anxious to absorb all the secrets of her new world. Her tiny features, perfectly etched by God, resemble those of her mother. Long, graceful fingers with whisper thin fingernails are delicate and pure, soon to become strong instruments of creativity. High expectations rest within us all, each wanting to desperately make our contribution toward baby Ava's success in life. Our fantasy is broken by the screams of a hungry child, writhing from an obvious gas pain and la piece de resistance..... a lovely, poopie diaper. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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