Motherhood
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Maybe one day I won’t have to choose between relief and proving myself. Maybe one day healing won’t come with conditions. Maybe one day I’ll light a joint without wondering who might judge the smoke. Until then, I’ll keep choosing the future I’ve been fighting for— one clear morning at a time.
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They might test my blood. They’ll never test the nights I stayed awake rocking babies. They’ll never measure the panic attacks I survived sober. They’ll never weigh the meals I forced myself to eat, or the mornings I got out of bed when depression begged me not to. Sometimes being a good mother looks nothing…
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They speak in easy sentences,as though motherhoodis measured by a single meal. A chicken nugget.A bedtime missed.A moment caughtwithout the thousandthat came before it. They don’t countthe mornings I rosebefore the sun remembered my name.They don’t countthe tiny hands reaching,the tears I soothed,the stories I readfor the hundredth time. They don’t carrythe grocery bags,the sleepless…
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They say a mother is born with her child,But mine was forged in storms. In hospital lights,In whispered prayers,In fear that stole my breath. She was bornWhen I chose courageEven while shaking. She was bornWhen exhaustion became routine,And love became instinct. She was bornHolding babies with one arm,And holding herself together with the other. I…
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I didn’t quit because I stopped needing it. I quit because tiny hands needed me more. There are nights when sleep still hides, when food still tastes like cardboard, when anxiety paces the hallway inside my mind. And sometimes I remember the little green flower that once taught my lungs how to breathe again. But…
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I carried two heartbeats beneath my own,Two tiny souls I’d never known.They danced in silence, side by side,Growing safely deep inside. One arrived with morning’s light,The other fought with all her might.A winding path, not as we’d planned,But love still held each little hand. Now laughter fills the quiet air,Tiny smiles beyond compare.The sleepless nights,…
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Before you, There were storms That carved their names Across my heart. The kind that leave Empty cribs, Silent lullabies, And questions No mother should ever have to ask. Then you arrived. Not to replace what was lost— No child ever could— But to remind me That hope still grows Even in broken ground. You…
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I hope you’re laughing. I hope your knees are grass-stained, Your shoes are caked with dirt, And your faces ache From smiling too much. I hope you stay up too late, Catch fireflies in your hands, Tell stories that make no sense, And believe this summer Will last forever. I hope you’re making memories. God…
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Before they knew the shape of words,Before they learned my name,Two tiny hearts beat side by side,Yet never beat the same. One reached first with curious eyes,The other smiled with ease.Two little souls, one miracle,Arriving on the breeze. They share the moon, they share the stars,The laughter in our home.But each one carries something rare,A…
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They call it a custody battle. But battles have finish lines. This feels more likeHolding my breathFor weeks that become months,Waiting for strangersTo decide pieces of our lives. I wake each morningStill their mother.No ruling can change that.No courtroom can eraseThe years stitched into my heart. Some days hope is loud.Some days fear sits beside…
Between Bruises and Blooms 