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.

A poem I wrote to the older woman who sat with me when my youngest was in hospital earlier this year.

It’s a special kind of love mum’s have
The older woman watching on said.
And I thought, I hope to be her one day,
When grey hairs crown my head.

MUSING.

This isn’t one of those motherhood poems…

I want to write those motherhood poems,
That everybody loves.
The ones that speak of tough days and stained shirts,
But a love like no other.

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.

MUSINGS.

Drop off today was hard.

POEM.

I took this photo twelve months ago. I can see the tiredness etched under my eyes and there’s a tug in my mind remembering how tired I felt too.

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.

MUSINGS.

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

POEM.

“I need a break,” I said to no one,
My frustration boiling out.
Another block beneath my foot,
The baby pulling my hair with a shout.

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.

POEM.

Keep running little one,
Don’t you worry, I’m right here.
A step behind, watching on,
To support you with a cheer.

MUSINGS.

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