On Motherhood

January 17, 2019

Motherhood doesn’t give a damn about your sleep schedule.

It doesn’t care how heavy your eyes are, or how puffy

the bags beneath them have become or

how long it’s been since you’ve had a full night of sleep

 

Motherhood has no regard for when your child becomes ill 

and you will find yourself

dozing off against a toilet splashed with sickness at 4 a.m.

while holding your child’s feverish body

over the cold ceramic bowl 

 

Motherhood doesn’t care if your breasts are engorged and desperate for relief 

or if your nipples are cracked and raw from cluster feeding—

screaming for a single hour to absorb Lanolin or an ice pack

in peace

 

Motherhood doesn’t pay attention to how you feel—

it doesn’t care whether your spirits are high and your

body is full of energy or if it’s ridden with illness

and you’re nursing a pounding headache. Motherhood’s

pace stays the same when you can’t stop crying

for no reason and every reason.

 

Motherhood is apathetic to your agenda.

It doesn’t care whether you have a meeting you 

absolutely cannot miss, or if you are in the middle of a Wednesday you swore was a Friday.

You would jump at a call from school

with your get out of jail free card.

But Motherhood will drag you by the hair

out of the meeting you 

 

couldn’t miss instead. 

 

It’s not motherhood’s problem how much or

little you prepared for it—

whether you read all of the literature from What to Expect

or none of it; you will find that there is no room for expectations.

No literature on the planet prepares you for

having a child with special needs. 

 

Motherhood is indifferent to your plans

and you may do all of the

research on breastfeeding versus formula feeding or 

co-sleeping versus crib-sleeping.

You may vow to only breastfeed or

only put your child in a crib to sleep.

But motherhood doesn’t give a shit about your plans. 

 

And most of all, motherhood doesn’t warn you

when it will be the last time your child nurses

or needs you to snuggle him to sleep

or asks if you can tie her shoe. 

Motherhood doesn’t signal: “Create a snapshot;

this is the last time” as your babies grow into people.

 

Motherhood doesn’t tell you that there will come a time

when you would give anything to go back in time

to before your babies turned into people

even if only to hold your sick baby

over a cold ceramic toilet at 4 a.m. 

 

Because motherhood is the greatest thing

you’ve ever done. 

 

Please reload

Our Recent Posts

Please reload

Archive

Please reload

Tags

Please reload

 

©2018 by erinondersma. Proudly created with Wix.com