2023 in 365ish Words—An Accidental Poem
How can she encapsulate the year she spent
six months pregnant
and six months postpartum
except to say,
tired. So very tired. A year drawing to a close
with a human hanging off her nipple—
her body a home
in which
she is the stranger.
How can she envelop an era
with no sign of
resolve
but bursting at the seams with
the promise of more fog. More questions
and a year ending the same way it began–
Home,
a harbour no more.
Hope,
a child’s plaything.
Maybe she’ll tell herself, it’s okay
to hold a year only in soundbites if stories
are too heavy. Hold on,
dear one, to the sweet whisper of
a husband asking–
how can I help you? Do you want
a McDonald’s Wrap of the Day? Have you
seen my charger/my running socks/my watch?
Hold on to the song of a toddler
finally learning to say,
yes and no and where’d Daddy go?
And the heat
of flushed cheeks as he unveils
his third costume of the day—unabashed pride
as he bestows this gift
on mankind. Or the cackling belly-shakes
of a boy besotted
by a bear in a crop top
searching for honey.
This year, in the thickest of woods
she wondered
if the remaining piece of her, the piece of
toast smushed down the side of the sofa,
should still be here.
She heard herself say–
I’m going to spin class before I punch someone
and Heavenly Father,
are we done yet?
Some things she’ll hold, her grip loosening
over time. And some she’ll hold
beyond last breath–like the chorus
it’s a boy, oh look at his pink bum, it’s a boy!
She’ll remember how
for one long second she couldn’t open her eyes,
the pressure and relief too great
but in that same second, she thought—
it’s a boy and miracles.
Now, in the dimmed light of
a youtube fireplace she thinks–
I will write a rom-com and
pierce my nose and
learn French for fun. She thinks of her new niece,
of all the good books, of the spa day and cheese with friends,
the Taylor Swift reels and meal train offerings.
She resolves
after all
there is much to hold onto in this
blood and guts, beautiful and broken
life
and it is so very worth
holding on for.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "365 Words".