POEM.

They held my hand as I counted,
A gentle care for my past trauma.
And as the numbness swept down,
Up rushed a rising nausea.

POEM.

One for the c-section mamas this caesarean awareness month.

There’s a mark, red and angry,
Stretched tight across my skin.
And as the weeks and months go by,
It fades to paper thin.

POEM.

Mama you are Enough,
just the way you are.
To your babies you’re everything -
their universe and rising star.

POEM.

We’re new to this, both me and you.
We’ve only just met but I know it’s true.
That the love I have for you is like no other,
you’re my entire world, my heart, my mother.

POEM.

A process of becoming,
Of breaking the mold of who you are.
Once one free spirt flying,
Now a vessel for a speck of star.

POEM.

In my phone there is a list
Of all the little projects I’d like to do.
Photo books, and re-potting plants,
Making puzzles, and re-organising cupboards too.

POEM

First feeds with milky soft head nuzzling in.
And a small hand curled tight around my thumb.
Bellies touching, the joy of skin to skin.
Perfect first dance and two once more as one.

POEM.

You’ve lost track of the time
And you’ve lost count of the days.
Your eyes are tired, body sore,
I promise it won’t always be this way.

MUSINGS.

I can’t do this. I wept it. A guttural sob as tears streamed down my face.

POEM.

My love let me tell you,
How it felt the day we met.
Awkward arms to hold you close,
A bond we hadn’t formed yet.

POEM.

[content note: reflects on birth trauma, tread gently if this may be triggering for you]

POEM.

Once upon a time I cradled you,
Wrapped you tightly in my arms.
Where you smiled and cooed back up at me,
Your small hand fit snug in mine.

POEM.

Cuddle into me little one
Tiny fingers woven into my hair.
We’ll rock and sway together,
Till we have not a care.

POEM.

Sleep is overrated.
Or so you’d think in my family.
Small, tired eyes fight to stay open,
Watching, waiting for me.

MUSINGS.

You want to shout it so everyone knows.
But motherhood is a quiet knowing.

MUSINGS.

It’s in those everyday moments. Amidst the chaos. Amongst the challenges and feelings of being stretched and beyond what you’re capable of. You’ll make it through the other side. You’ll ride that wave and be amazed that you did it.

POEM.
I’m longing for some freedom,
Or even a little space.
My arms are heavy, back sore,
But I am your favourite resting place.

POEM.

Some days the mess of our house,
Really gets under my skin.
The constant picking up and putting away,
It never looks like I’ve done a thing.

POEM.

Whew you’ve got your hands full,
The passing stranger said with a grin.
As I wrestled the baby in the pram,
The toddler eyeing him with jutted chin.

POEM.

I watch you watch the world go by,
Your curious eyes exploring.
Still too young to understand,
The time that you were born in.