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
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
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