Echoes of New Beginnings: A Poem About A Postpartum Journey

Joy. So much joy. Too much joy. 

Fury that's unrelenting. Rage that demands to be released.

Where has she gone? She's swallowed up by the highs and lows. 

She's tossed about on the waves. 

Time loses its meaning. Blink. It's been 3 months. Nevermind, it's only been 2 hours.

The tears of gratitude and the tears of wallow come so frequent, they become friends.

Tiny toes and fingers claim all of her and more.

Looking in the mirror, unable to identify the face looking back. 

Where has she gone? Where is she hiding?

Baby cries. The switch is on. Back to work.

Duty calls for the mask to be put on. She'll have to hide a little longer.

Goodbye to her, if she's even still in there somewhere.

2am. Rocking back and forth back and forth back and forth.

Celebrating the life she holds in her arms.

Mourning her old self. Mourning her freedom. 

Missing her vibrant smile. Her quick wit. Her zest for life.

Where has she gone? Will she ever return?

The guilt of wanting this. Pursuing this. Fighting for this.

Maybe she wasn't meant for this. Maybe Motherhood doesn't fit her.

What's that smell? Another diaper. 

What time is it even? 6am. The night is over. Thank God.

Nights are always harder. Darker. Longer. 

Where has she gone?

She misses her. She wants her back. 

***If you are struggling in postpartum, there is hope and help. Reach out today to learn about our support groups and individual therapy sessions. Motherhood is meant to be shared.

For resources outside Tennessee:

https://postpartum.net/