Today, I celebrate motherhood with a short poem inspired by my son. It will be well into summer before he’s earth-side, but I’ve already begun to treasure each day he’s loudly in my life! And this kid is loud. Be it morning sickness or happy kicks. 🙂
I love sharing big stories with as few lines as possible, so here’s five lines about how I found out I was pregnant with our summer baby. I hope this poem brings up some happy memories for you.
Last Sunday was Bereaved Mother’s Day. It’s not a fun day, but it is an important one. With this poem, I want to honor the mothers who have or are experiencing the worst kind of pain to be found in motherhood.
If you have endured the ache and grief of miscarriage, I would love to know the name of your baby. Share with me in the comments if you feel able to. I sincerely hope these words give voice to the pain you have experienced. You matter. Your baby matters. You both are seen.
I like the title of this poem because Her Art really just looks like HEr ART. And isn’t the heart the essence of art? Done with love from a place of love? Whoever you are, you’re still making art. And we need you. Thank you.
It’s no secret that I love this time of year. It’s always so full of energy. There are new beginnings and hard-earned endings. People celebrate all through May, and it feels like the Christmas season of the spring. I always love a good holiday, but all this happy celebration (just like Christmastime) can punctuate the sadness and struggles you may be facing.
I know that a constant barrage of achievements and college degrees might make you wonder where you really stand. I know that watching wedding after wedding can be emotionally exhausting. I know that one more engagement might tip your heart over the edge. I know that Mother’s Day can be full of grief for whatever reason…missing your own mother, infertility, postpartum depression, miscarriage, not “measuring up” as a mother, etc & so forth.