Newborn Mother

The first draft I wrote of a poem in the throes of those early days with a new baby.

Newborn Mother

Breasts sag from the weight
of mother’s milk,
which came in full force.
And just as forcefully are
left sagging again.
Ornaments turned vessels.

Stomach droops,
no longer held taunt
by precious cargo –
now carried on the outside.
Core turned cushion.

Hips bear the scars
of being cracked open
to bring forth life.
With a single push,
Daughter turned mother.

New baby

6 Comments

  1. Catherine on February 4, 2014 at 1:06 pm

    Beautiful, Victoria.

  2. Bek on February 4, 2014 at 3:16 pm

    Lovely! Really lovely.

  3. Kristy on February 4, 2014 at 3:19 pm

    Hello,
    I own Breastfeeding Mama Talk on facebook & the website, I was wondering if I could put your poem on a picture I wanted to share on my page. Please let me know, thanks!

    • Victoria Wilson on February 4, 2014 at 5:49 pm

      O wow! Of course 🙂 I would be honored. I’ll email the original picture so you can have a higher resolution file. Thank you! Glad you enjoyed the piece.

    • Victoria on February 4, 2014 at 9:02 pm

      I just re-read your message and saw you want to put the poem on a picture (I’m guessing one you have in mind!)

      That’s totally fine also. 🙂

  4. Maggie Hess on February 4, 2014 at 4:06 pm

    Wow. Every time I read this I hear something else in it. A grown daughter with once ornamental body parts turns into a mother. I love these bits of language that paste an image of what wonderful belly was once cracked open.

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