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Arch Pediatr Adolesc Med. 2006;160:465.

	Since this article does not have an abstract, we have provided the first 150 words of the full text and any section headings.

There is nothing more to be done.
I take this little being,
Who without will, without malice,
Has devastated a family,
Into a warm blanket and
To a room where a couple awaits
The unthinkable.

I hand the bundle to a terrified mother
Who knows she will have to wait
To hand her back.
A father sits just out of reach,
Pressing his hands into the sofa
Unsure of anything anymore except that
His tears will come soon.

I could save myself this agony.
Orders, laboratories, and adjustments
Await me.
I stay,
Until I have to tell them
There is no more waiting,
And they collapse into wretched sobs
Against a background of
Ventilators cycling and alarms sounding
For those that go on.

I go back to the tedious work,
Haunted by a vision of their
Lonely walk to the parking lot,
In the blazing light of this
Most unbearable . . . [Full Text of this Article]