This Is Your Mother’s Day Too

Not every Mum is plain to see,
You may exist with arms empty.
Broken heart and a pain so true,
Missing your little pink or blue.

If your child rests up in heaven,
Sometimes special cards aren’t given.
You are a mother nonetheless,
This day is tough; can feel a mess.

Right now, you want to scream or hide,
But please know this — you can survive.
Feel alone with no one knowing?
Thinking of you. Keep on going.

3 A.M. Again.

Each night I clock in:
3 A.M. without fail.
Thanks to a cry,
A cough or a wail.

Up changing bed sheets,
Or making night feeds.
World’s most patient hostess,
Of V.I.P needs.

Cold air cramps my neck,
Bum numb on the floor,
Eyes shutting, head drooping,
“Please sleep” I implore.

Now expert at back rubs,
Patting and “hush”
Reminding myself,
This will pass soon enough.

One day they will sleep,
There’ll be no pitch-black cuddles.
No mopping of brows,
No cleaning up puddles.

No reaching for Calpol,
And Neurofen too.
No surprise vomits,
Or exploding poos.

Weirdly I’ll miss this,
Once home’s filled with snores.
I won’t be so needed.
And then I’ll want more!