Friday, August 24, 2012

A poem, almost



I was going to write a poem

about how I can watch you grow as you nurse,

about how I will never forget your first meal, how your eyes locked with mine and you established permanent residency in my soul,

about how your eyelashes lay sweetly on the top of your cheek,

and about how I know you better than anyone else,

about how old wounds have finally healed,

how I hope that I will always be able to recall your profile, your button nose and perfectly round cheeks,

how when our house is full of friends and noise, we can steal away to a quiet corner and it’s just us,

and about how when I would cradle you in my arms in those first few weeks I would run my hand down your spine and marvel at how all of those vertebrae grew in a straight line inside of my belly,

about how you used to take up my whole lap and now you take up a whole couch cushion,

about how your baby rolls are stretching out into big boy arms and legs,

how I’m considering auditioning for Cirque du Soleil since mastering the art of getting out of bed without waking sleeping child,

how these comically engorged life-givers of mine help my sweaters fit better than ever,

about how this is now your favorite thing in the whole world (but the mere mention of this when you’re a teenager will probably embarrass the crap outta you),

about how, even before you were mobile, you could make your way to me in bed like a heat seeking missile, diving towards your goal,

about how as I watch you breathe I can feel your lungs and belly expand with each gulp,

how sometimes right after you fall asleep, right after your breath slows to a steady in and out, right after your eyelids become too heavy to hold open, you chuckle straight from your belly and I wonder what that beautiful brain is thinking,

and about how the soft rhythm of your hand on my chest mirrors the rhythm of my heart,

about how I never knew love like this,

about how this is exactly what I dreamed motherhood would be like,

I was going to write a poem about how nourishing you is my calling



but then you bit me.



SON OF A!



I guess love hurts sometimes.




3 comments:

  1. How cute is this poem! Stopping by from SITS!

    ReplyDelete
  2. haha! this was the perfect mix of sweet and hilarious.

    ReplyDelete

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