Matrescence

First one ripped right through me.

Tore through my identity,

Made a wound of me.

Giant gash

Going top to soul

I bled out slow.

Bleeding out

All that made me up of who I was…

Dancing, singing,

Tunes and sessions

Positivity and passions,

Connection to a higher power

And

All those colours

Just,

Sucked

Out of me.

Left but a puddle,

Muddy, murky, milky.

Spilling through the day

Every shade of white turned grey,

Just blending into the

Matted spot on the rug

Beneath my feet,

As I sat

Cradling her

And a cup of stale tea, staring at tv,

Vulnerable as she

But –

No one’s cradling me.

I turned stone cold.

Couldn’t ask for help

Couldn’t be that bold,

No desire to sing now

No stories told,

No songs or visions did unfold

No opening,

Or connecting,

To anything

- But this perfect thing -

That I had to be perfect for.

No less,

*baby roars*

Shhh! No more,

And then perfection the ruination of me

Running ruined on zero sleep,

Longing for warmth

But wouldn’t let him touch me,

So cut off –

Yet so in need.

And he so isolated too

In need of Zzzz’s

Catching so few

Getting no empathy from you,

What else could happen?

Attack to defend,

New game that won’t end-

Call of Duty: Emotional Warfare

Parental despair,

“I thought we did prepare?!”

“I don’t remember any of this in the fuckin’ antenatals do you?!”

“Yeah, right ye do.”

I’m glad I hit a wall

Instead of him,

But now the swelling and the broken skin

It shows the world –

I’m struggling.

Just for them to respond;

“Aah but it’s all worth it though!”

Eh, yeah…

I know…

Sweet, mandated joy

For sweet girl or boy,

“None of that bitter, raw and realness, pleasey!”

“You’re making us feel uneasy!”

“Birth story making us queasy!”

“Save that for your partner, yeah?”

Hard to know where to start there.

And yet, we sorted it out,

By some grace from above,

Couples counselling,

Couple nights of love,

But took a couple of years,

And doin’ a couple of yokes,

For me to see that bloke

As who he was again though.

So, don’t you be afraid

If it’s super slow,

For all your shit to go

Back into place,

You are not a failure,

Your love is not a disgrace,

You’re just becoming “parents”.

And society didn’t set you up well for it,

Left adrift,

Emotionally unsupported

Financial debts’ door

It can be;

SUFFOCATING.

Insta-pressure sticks there,

Then there’s work and childcare,

Unsolicited comments that make you feel shit

Just because you’re not doing it how they did it,

But look,

You live and you learn,

Though you’re broken to bits,

And those cuddles and loves drag you back from the pits,

You’ve a fuck-tonne of worries,

A shit-tonne of to-do’s,

All the while trying to claw back

Those pieces of you,

But

That wound…

It’s gonna heal Mama,

‘Cause your strength is unreal Mama,

So,

Set clear boundaries,

And rest,

And don’t sell yourself short,

But if you’re not yourself

Please get some support,

You will never be the same again,

Not truly,

But you will piece back together like a

Work of kintsugi,

Until one day,

Not so grey,

As you notice –

The colour…

Has gradually…

Seeped…

Back

In.