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.

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.

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.

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.

POEM.

We’re told we should aspire to more,
We’re told to aspire to less.
We’re told that we should contribute more,
That a mother, a woman, always says yes.

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.

Entering motherhood I had so many questions about how it would change me.

MUSINGS.
Who am I now that I am a mother? How does this fit with the person I was?

MUSINGS.

The beginning of motherhood looks different for everyone and we can’t plan for everything that could and does happen during childbirth. But we can be prepared and empowered.