Truths; a motherhood poem

Written by Lauren Shaw @the.poetic.mother

As I put pen to paper I am always hindered by the thought 'how truthful should I be?'

Truth is something society holds in high regard.

We impress upon children that one should not lie and how it is "naughty" and if they tell the truth we will welcome it with open arms.

Yet, many adults find lots of truths intolerable and no more so than the truths of mothers.

We are only to speak the truth amongst ourselves, in private chats over coffee (or cocktails) whilst we bounce our babies on our knees.

If we were to utter these truths to others our parenting would be judged or, even worse, we may make them question the roles of mothers and lift the veil on the idea of 'the perfect mother', a woman with unwavering patience.

So, I will not write about how some days feel endless and how your screams make me want to weep and tear at my own flesh.

I will not write about how on days when you smile at others yet give me blank expressions and moans and kicks, I fear you hate me and I feel wholly not good enough.

I will not write about the resentment I sometimes feel towards my partner for his freedom and the autonomous person he gets to be after our good morning kiss.

I will not write about how I feel I have lost myself and do not know where I fit, yet have been born anew in becoming your mother and how strangely wonderful this is.

I will not write about the crushing pressure I feel to entertain you. To feed your growing mind and developing body and the guilt I feel when I've reached my limit and reach for my phone or television remote.

I will not write about how, at times, I am disgusted by my changed body despite the miraculous thing it has done in growing you and birthing you. How I look at the stretch marks upon my stomach and long for them to disappear.

I will not write about how the day you were born was simultaneously the worst and best day of my life. The best because I got to meet you in all your technicolour glory and the worst because I nearly died in the process. How on the day I met the greatest love of my life, I was almost lost to you.

I will not write about all these things because these things are not permanent. These thoughts and feelings are fleeting and transient, like a wave upon the sand. I will not write about them because I do not want anyone to doubt my unwavering, undying love for you for one second.

I will not speak these truths because of the true joy you bring me and because the feelings above melt away within seconds when you smile, or giggle, or reach out for my hand.

Because you are the greatest thing in my world and becoming your mother has changed me for the better.

I will not commit these truths to paper, but they are truths nonetheless.