I wrote the following in February 2014 when I found out I was pregnant.  I chose to share this particular poem tonight because he’s seven months old now, and I’m doing cartwheels again.  Hooray!  I look at baby2 daily unable to find words that describe how quickly time is passing (when will it sink in? – see below) and how truly sacred and healing having a second baby has been (prayerful and head first – see below).  Instead of writing about his skin and laughter every night, I’m birthing some work (M-Bodied and Motherhood: seen, heard, moved), some ideas, some community that brings together mothers – not to chat about diaper rash and recipes – but to help them see their own reflection in not only one another but also in their children.  We move, we write, we talk, we share, we connect, we see, we shed, we renew, we bloom.



I don’t know
If it’s for real
Or my imagination –
But I’m already fatigued.

I’m barely Late
Only know
Because of counting and testing –
But the year is unfolding.

A tidal wave swelling
Gaining height
Thickening its underbelly
Threatening to swallow.

But like last night’s dream
I’m choosing to dive
Prayerful and head first
Into the middle.

I forget you are there,
Little Poppyseed.
I haul your brother
And do cartwheels.

But, oh yeah.
I’m going to have a baby
A belly that swells with love –
When, when will it sink in?

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