It’s a learning curve like no other –
The day when you become a mother.
The days are long, the nights are hard,
A sleepless stare’s our calling card.
A thousand voices chiming in,
It’s hard to hear above the din.
But this I know – this much is true,
This time is yours, it’s down to you.
Purée-weaned or baby-led?
Latched to breast or bottle-fed?
Go to work or stay at home?
The choice is yours; this time’s your own.
Read the books, then burn them later –
This job can’t be explained on paper.
You’ll watch the ones who do it well,
The mums who never look like hell.
But bear in mind we’re all the same:
Bluffers in this crazy game.
Accept advice, admit defeat,
Embrace the chaos – this thing’s not neat.
It takes a village, that much is true,
So build it up – it starts with you.
Phone a friend, make another,
Reach out to another mother.
Boil the kettle, brew a tea,
Add a sugar, or two, or three.
Count to ten and breathe in deep,
One day soon you’ll get some sleep.
Find a rhythm, forge a path,
Soak up all the smiles and laughs.
This too shall pass, that’s what they say,
Try not to wish these days away.
You know, when all is said and done,
The battles fought – some lost, some won,
They won’t dwell on the little things,
The mess that every new day brings.
They’ll look to you, you are enough –
Forget about the other stuff.
You are their world, and as they grow,
Your heart they’ll have; your love they’ll know.