Not just a mother

A poem of hope for Mum’s

She gets dressed

last

as all Mum’s do.

Nothing quite fits.

‘This will have to do.’

She hasn’t got the time

nor capacity

to work out what she likes

or which colour

brings out her eyes.

She’s only getting dressed for

another day

as she ties back her hair

in the same old way.

She puts off the coffee morning

yet again

and instead finds herself scrolling

In the comfort of her own home.

Longing for quiet connection.

Because she loves her babies

But something’s…missing.

So she voice notes while making the tea

planning the night of dancing

she and the girls always talk of

and promise to do soon.

She just wants to feel

like her old self.

But how can she

when nothing fits

in quite the same way.

She might feel lost

in a way she can’t explain

but she doesn’t know yet

that a day will come

When she looks in the mirror

and catches herself

being kind of like that woman she knew

but more.

She sees herself

Not just a mother.