I am flattened
By the birth of my second child.
Before she sparked in my womb
I stood tall
And strong.
The world was on my terms
And I a woman of passion
Not to mention
Of means.
Now I see myself
In my new
Vulnerability.
Panic fluttering in my heart
As she nurses at the breast.
Echoing over and over again
A fool
I put my safety in something
That did not exist
Does not exist
If it ever did.
Did my great-grandmother
Feel like this?
Did she roll up her sleeves
And get on with it?
I know that she did.
They tell me of it.
It didn't have to be me
We women have more options
Than we did before.
And yet still I am still rendered immobile and weak.
A Postpartum Poem
