Motherhood: A Journey In A Slam Poem

I wrote this piece 2 months after having my daughter and haven't read it out loud since. With Mothers Day having just passed, I decided to go back and add some things to make it more relevant to my journey through motherhood by far.

Here is "Motherhood: A Journey in a Slam Poem"

We all have our own idea of what love is in our head. It's visceral, yet it comes to us in so many different ways. Love can look like a tall, dark and handsome man to someone and to another love can look like a simple "hello beautiful" text message.

I think I've seen love in most of its phases... I was the girl that stuck with a man even though I knew I was being used. I was the girl who stayed friends with a person who always made me look like the bad guy. But I'm also the girl who found love without looking for it. Who abandoned love but through some amazing luck was able to grasp it all over again. And because of that luck I'm able to experience it on another level... This love came on 3 separate occasions. 3 separate tests. 3 separate reactions. 2 quick heartbeats. 3 souls had developed their vessels inside of me. One of which, God needed back as an angel.

It hits you as painful as a pile of bricks when you find out that it just wasn't their time to be on this earth. The love I had 1st experienced, even if it was just for a few weeks, put my life into perspective and I knew when God was ready for me to bring forth more souls into the world it would be well worth the wait...

The strong kicks, the hiccups, the dancing inside my womb that is love for me. The stretch marks, the contractions, the fresh new human laying on my chest taking their first breaths. I'm experiencing the kind of love meant for fairy tales.

Love for ME looks like a 2 ft. terror and a 21 inch suckling. It looks like 5 am nursing sessions and terrible two temper tantrums (NOT at the same time, thank God). Love now looks like boogers and spit up. Boo boos that can feel better with a kiss. It looks like marshmallows and breast milk both of which are sweet and can silence my child within seconds. It looks like chaotic birthday parties and capturing milestones.

It looks like crying while they nap. It feels like discipline and attachment. Its asking myself if I'm doing it all wrong. It looks like milk stains and blow out diapers. Like lactation smoothies to boost my supply. Like hot dogs with no bun and mustard. Like McDonald's fries as meals because... pickiness and preference.

It looks like lost shoes and lost socks. It feels like warm baths and cuddles on sick days. It feels like calming the after effects of a nightmare and soothing gassiness. It feels like wanting to take away intussusception and thrush. Like sore nipples from breastfeeding and headaches on days the 2 ft. terror is on Team No Nap. It looks like a tag team match between them and us. It looks like the death stare when he's sound asleep and I'm still awake. It feels like family days during the weekend and waiting for him to get home on weekdays. It looks like a hot mess running on coffee and string cheese. It feels like the baby weight just won't budge and I criticize myself in the mirror only to have him watch as I do so and him still say, "Stop. You're beautiful." It feels like not being able to take a compliment. It feels like going days without showering and no privacy while peeing. It feels like I laugh when I shouldn't and like I'm serious too often. It feels like the best thing in the world but also makes me yearn for a break to protect my sanity.

It looks like judgy stares as I walk around stores feeding my baby and more judgy stares while my son screams his head off because again he's on team no nap. It looks like diaper bags filled with Destin, wipes and easy ups and TWO changes of clothes. It looks like hiding the good snacks for myself and keeping the healthy ones in sight. It looks like Toy Story 2, Minions and Paw Patrol playing non stop. Like tee ball games and pink tutu's.

Even now it looks like dragging feet to wake up for school and a clean room that get back to messy within minutes. It looks like bath times and hair braiding. Yelling when you don't want to and regretting it moments later. It looks like tears on Christmas morning when they get exactly what they wanted. It feels like being squished against the wall when they crawl into the bed in the middle of the night even though they have a perfectly comfortable bed in their room. It feels like never having alone time but always missing them when I do. It looks like baseball gear and bike rides. It looks like serious talks when the behavior is bad and serious talks when the behavior is good. It looks like a messy home but solid memories. It looks like baseball cheers and movies nights.

Love for me now is showing me that us women are strong and resilient but at the same time still need help every now and then. I will admit I'm not quick to ask for help because I sometimes I think I can do it all until it becomes too much.

Love for me now has taught me that my other half is equally important.

It has taught US that we need to have each other's back even more so now than ever. It has taught me that I'm not the only one making sacrifices for our kids, so is he. Love looks like a lot of different things to different people. It molds to fit the kind of people we are. It shows us the obvious while making us oblivious.

Love has molded ME into the woman I am now. It has taught me life lessons the hard way but if I had the option to do it all over again... I would, because I know that it doesn't matter if I took a different step along the way, I'd still end up with the same beautiful children watching the same episode of paw patrol or the same show on netflix and disney+ and singing songs from Frozen and Encanto on end and I wouldn't regret a single minute because I know that love finds you and when you have it, you take it all in and embrace it. The good, the bad and the emotional. It's a wild ride and I can't wait to see what else it brings to me.

I am blessed to be able to understand the grieving of a miscarriage and the joyfulness in having carried my babies full-term. I understand that not all women are as lucky. But we have to make miscarriages and surrogacy and IVF less taboo. Let's talk about them, let's share our stories and grieve together. Let's lift each other up and talk about rainbow babies. You are a mother whether you carried full term or not, whether you adopted, or needed IVF, or a donor. Motherhood is tough. Let's embrace it and go through it together!

Happy Mother's Day to ALL the momma's out there! You are all truly amazing!