At night, breasts aching, body pounding,
brain begging sleep and eyes burning,
I’m praying pleasejustonehourofsleep
and help me to be enough.

One week since birth and I can only pray,
the tongues of weary, ecstatic new mothers,
all of us saying in chorus,
Oh, help.
And thank you, thank you, thank you.

It’s been one week.
– it’s all too much
– it’s not enough.

Too much nursing (around the clock! for a week!).
Too much noise from everyone else.
Too much mess.
Too much selfishness.
Too much pain and tenderness….everywhere.
Too much milk and too much worry over latching.
Too many tears – usually mine.
Too many kindnesses – Jesus with skin on – all around me.

Not enough sleep.
Not enough control.
Not enough rest (one of these babies I’ll learn to rest more, I promise
but how do you ‘sleep when the baby sleeps’ when there are two others
needing their Mummy just as much as – maybe more than – ever?).
Not enough of me to go around.
Not even enough fresh air.

Humbled, brought to my knees again
by how this takes all of me.

I’ve dropped tears into every crease of her,
baptizing her both in my own ferocious mother-love
and weaknesses.
Small girl needing more, I’m just
a mama who feels like she’s not enough.

But look here, heart, as she’s curled up,
boneless in her peace,
milk-drunk,
she’s
somehow full and content
with what I had to give right now.


Isn’t this a miracle?

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In which I share the story of Evelynn's birth
In which a lactivist is humbled
thank you for sharing...
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