A unity of cells create,
Something together but separate.
A piece of each,
Belonging to neither.
Warnings of work and tedium are best left elsewhere.
We, as expecting parents, know the trials to come.
We read voraciously the advice of those that have come before.
Partially believing, but not giving in to the hints of toil.
We laugh at so called experts.
Our love will get us through.
Ours is different from theirs.
We wanted this more.
We anxiously await that fraternity of parenthood.
Never again to look with longing or anger at another,
When they take a child in their arms.