I spent last week sorting through thousands of family photos, which explains this week’s burst of parenting poetry. As I told my Aunt Lisa, the writing keeps me sane. I’m posting as I write, so no doubt this will see some editing in the future. I write a lot about vulnerability, so I’m trying to practice what I preach and put it out there. Maybe there is a parent in the thick of it who will relate.
Unready, Unsteady
I wanted it, wanted you
Wanted to know
If I could love
If I could matter
The flutter surprised
A minnow released
In the quick changing bump
Of my young, nervous belly
Only thirty-six weeks
Not the forty they promised
I was unready – really
Who could be ready?
You took what I had
My time, mind, and sleep
What was left of my confidence
A trembly beginning
I did what I could
Did most of the things
Rock, sang, and fed
Did I love? Could I?
Worried and laughed
Tested and read
To understand need
To plan and protect
There is no place safe
In this world for a child
I watched them hurt you
Steal my favorite smile
Sat outside your door
2:30 a.m.
In a panic because
Your shell was too thin
Oh it was too thin
And your heart was too large
Your mind was too sharp
Taking everything in
You wanted to die
I understood why
I wanted to join you
My love was true
Love stays that hard
No relief, small reward
But most days we live
And most days we want to
~Alyson Hinkie, February 25, 2019
