My firstborn,
It was you that made me a mother.
It was you that stopped me in my tracks and paved new ones for me.
It was you that reduced me to the rubble of myself, and then built me back up stronger.
It was you that gave me so many reasons, but also reasons for criticising my body, for loving what it gave me, for being comfortable in my own skin.
It was you who first turned the nights into weeks and the years into days.
It was you that filled me with a type of gratitude I’d never known, each breath you took filled my lungs, each step you took was our journey together.
It was you that introduced me to so many firsts, to a different type of love, heart ache, and to me.
It was you that gave me a kind of confidence I never knew I had within, a whisper turned roar, an exercised patience, a worry that will live in my heart forever.
It was you who unearthed me, things tucked away, no longer buried, it was you who cracked me open.
It was you that showed me a different view of the world, decisions, memories, dreams, are all shaped with you.
It was you I held as I cried in the early months, deep in the trenches, lonely but in the best company. Tired but never more alive. It was you that got me through.
You’re much older now.
But I’ll always remember us in the quiet of the weekdays, where we did nothing and everything. Our chapter.
How it was you, who made me a mother.
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Printable poem available here