As with all my poetry, this is written to be read ALOUD, slowly.
Motherhood is not simply a connection
from womb to life. It is that, and
a bond created by choice.
In the choosing, it is the care of another that ties you in a life giving way.
It cannot be fully understood, only carried out.
Many a day I am incomplete.
I question how I could be the one
doing the loving, the providing, the choosing of another.
Ah, then I realize, again and again,
motherhood isn’t perfection
nor accomplishment.
But it is in the choosing, daily.
Choosing to be the advocate, the provider, the buffer
between the world and this one child that I love.
As I sit on the floor with her.
As she sobs the sorrow of a thousand broken hearts.
As I think “who can I hurt” for causing this anguish?
As I consider the quiet relief that I want to confer,
likewise the pain I want to inflict on someone else;
As I think, I know the answer.
I am duty-bound to my child that I love
and to all children
to love. Destined to listen, to bring solace.
To uphold all in my path. And it is not glorious or praise-worthy.
It simply is a choice
of Motherhood.
Although it is not even possible to anticipate and prevent all pain
from this child, my child, any child;
I am beholden to all children,
to endure this quandary of motherhood.
Written by MHH, January 26, 2009
Logic & Imagination 
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I have often felt this burdensome joy myself. Thank you for giving it expression.
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and thanks for sharing in the experience and the poem.
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