anchored in light

A lifestyle blog about finding light in every avenue of life

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Poems of Motherhood | June

June was a heavy month for me. We moved. My baby was approaching 6 months. So of course, there was a lot of poetry.

I love the way your hands come together
clasped like prayer

I'm sure you know
I'm sure you understand

You probably pray better than the prophets
I will be the one to teach you how to say
dear Heavenly Father


sometimes the details
crash and break over me like waves
the curl of your hands
the tint of your hair
the exact weight of your small body
in my arms
like waves
the details change
you fit differently, yet secure
your mouth forms different sounds
clothes are boxed away
like waves
sometimes I drown in the depth of them
come out soaked to the marrow of my bones
salt water streaming down my face
like waves
the details slip and slide off of me
no matter how I try to catch them
ending up with droplets
when I tried to capture the ocean
just like waves
I'll never get tired of watching you
drowning and drinking you in
even when the salt scratches my throat
leaves me wishing for more water
I'm happy with the whatever
the waves leave me with

because in the end
those snatches of you
the scraps of memory
small and scattered as the sand
are beautiful
clinging to my skin
until they are a part of me
no amount of waves
can wash them away

last night I watched the sky blush its way to the horizon and thought about motherhood
the way that only a few months ago
we were tied together
by blood and tissue
belly to belly
leaving an indelible mark
a scar that just looks like skin
we're tied together in an entirely different way
heart to heart
a string that has grown into a rope
feelings twined around each other
keeping me always aware
almost exhaustingly so
of the distance between our hearts
or miles

I saw you watching me

on me

so I put aside my blogging project
read you the poems I'd shared
they'd brought tears to your grandmother's eyes
but the words had never met the air

you watched me

I watched your eyes slide closed
then jump open
like you didn't want to miss a word

but sleep claimed you anyway

there are moments
lots of moments
when I remember what it was like
to not count the minutes
since I last nursed
or pumped
when my breast pads didn't show through my clothes
because I didn't wear any
I didn't calculate how simple 
or difficult 
it would be to feed my baby based on what I was wearing

then there are moments
like this
where you fall asleep at my breast
and I lay you back in your crib
your fingers curl into a fist
fall slowly to the mattress
your hair damp and wavy with sweat
where you rested against my arm

and I wish that these moments
would last forever
where I would wear lumpy pads
eat endless lactation cookies
and plan my outings in three-hour increments


We were in church
you were sleeping
then the organ played

even before you opened your eyes
your mouth was open
singing with us
making a joyful noise


Today was one of those moments
where everything clicks into a kind of bliss
Brian came home from work for lunch
bearing tacos and fries
we ate them while you babbled and sang
in your rock n play
in that moment
full of good food and family
I felt full and enough and perfectly content
a good moment
one that ties me down to the happily ever
after I have anchored in my heart
moments like that
I can tell you what it looks like
what it tastes like
today it looked like a family of three in a tiny apartment
today it tasted like beef and turkey tacos with crinkle fries


someone told me once
in your mind
pregnancy hasn't ended yet
you're still so wrapped up in me
skin, muscles, and bones still
wrapped around you
so when I'm gone.
it's like you're missing too

if that isn't the most accurate description of motherhood
then I don't know what is.


Tonight is our last night
the last night you sleep in the home you came home to
the last night to watch the light fade over the mountains

to remember the first night we spent here
a place of our own

to bathe you in the sink where you had your first bath
were we cried and loved and struggled

if these walls could talk...
witness to our lives
to your songs
to the many moments where we walked 
out the door

one last time
we're close our eyes knowing these walls
that have known us

then we'll walk out the door
one last time


so many memories
layered into the walls
thicker than paint
sealed in with the new coat that they will paint when we leave
if you could peel it back
like rings in the trees
what would be trapped there 
between those
paint pages
pressed like seals in hot wax

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