Back in 2020 when the world was falling apart, I gave birth to my son. He was due late July, but he came early August. He was born into a hospital room highlighted with laughter. It didn’t matter what blanketed the world, we were laughing, and he was beautiful, and it was birth!
These are sunflowers from that season. My mom took this photo and I’ve always loved it. It was our first year growing sunflowers, our first year being parents, our first year with a vase filled to the brim of our own garden flowers. It was a year of firsts. And it was one of bloom. Since then we’ve met our little Spring, and that magical boy is growing up. I’m more mother than ever.
I love it.
And it’s also the first year I’ve looked in the mirror and found myself unrecognizable. Perhaps, motherhood, growing pains, (exhaustion? heheheheee😅) and time passing has all meshed together–has me asking, “Who is that?”
Other times, I see my reflection and think about going back in time to tell my high school self that it does get better. You haven’t peaked yet. It doesn’t just “go downhill from here.”
Still, I find myself in a different body and a different season. Instead of the bright flush of youth or the burst of new motherhood, I’m settling in. I’m spreading roots. And it’s vibrant. It’s life. But it’s also gritty and deep and uncharted territory. It’s a long game. And that means blooming isn’t the only thing worth doing, being.
I’m not looking to revert, bounce back, stay young, or rebel against time. I am changing. And I am glad to. But it is here, I’m learning to nurture well and wisely this body of a grown woman, this body which has birthed two children, this body which is getting older. Perhaps it is the woman and mother growing older and becoming wiser who discovers she had always been the roots.
So the following poem is for all of us women here–growing, changing, aging, being.
Old Wise Woman’s Tale
beneath the weight of bloom, sunflower never wonders
if it must become a seed, be small enough for earth,
be something young again.
sunflower simply blooms, bends beneath that weight,
let’s sky and sun, water, weather
split life right at the seams.
sun shining, stalk creaking, birds flying, leaf burning,
bees happy, light filtering,
life blooming, breaking, holding, staying,
new seeds bursting from the heart of that.
bloom where you are planted—
sunflower knows this
and does. but sunflower knows
the secret thing.
there is more to life than blooming.
so, sunflower never wonders if it must become a seed,
be small enough for earth, be something
young again. -S.V.F.
The June Garden – & why you should stay the course
Sierra V. Fedorko 
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