Where you feel beyond blessed,
To mean the world to a little person.
Yet feeling moments of loneliness,
Amidst all the 'being needed', is real.
Where even the off key babbles,
Are music to your ears.
Yet craving for some quiet,
Then finding silence deafening, is real.
Where you realise you can love selflessly,
Beyond measures you knew not until now.
Yet missing your younger carefree self,
Yearning alone-time, is real.
Where you learn to unlearn a whole lot,
As you rock your own parenting journey.
Yet often feeling lost amidst the chaos,
Wishing for a wand or a manual, is real.
Where you surprise yourself with immense strength,
Physical and emotional.
Yet drenching in your own tears,
At the silliest of triggers, is real.
Where you are blinded by joy,
That your heart pounds with gratitude.
Moments later it's your head pounding,
Oh the exhaustion, is real.
Where your little person is your pride,
You love being known as their mom.
Yet feeling uncertain of your own identity,
Outside of this relationship, is real.
Where you want to soak in every moment,
And not miss a second.
Yet tuning off from all the chatter,
The mental load, is real.
Mundane and magical.
Exhausting and exhilarating.
Brain-draining and beautiful.
Chaotic and calming.
An experience of sweet contradictions.
Of endless happiness and worrying.
If I could reprogram Motherhood,
I would change absolutely nothing! ❤️
