I remember the very moment
The nurse put her in my arms
The swaddling blanket soft against my chin
I remember her hair...jet black and long
And wondered which genes were hers
I remember my surprise that she wasn't a boy
And my relief that I'd gone with green and yellow
I remember there was no crying but
Before that could terrify me, she was in my arms
Squirming into my heart
I remember wondering how I'd love my child
How does a mother love?
I remember I felt unsuited, unworthy
For this powerful identity
And I remember her lying on my chest
As we were wheeled into our room
Our room
Ours
Just mine no longer
I remember wondering
Who would I be?
I remember her tiny cry, and I had my answer.
About the Creator
Marie McGrath
Things that have saved me:
Animals
Music
Sense of Humor
Writing
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Love Letters Through Time
Context: Grace (Gráinne) Gifford, was a participant in the Irish nationalist struggle against British rule, which led to ‘The Easter Rising’, Easter Monday, 1916 in Dublin, Ireland. She was betrothed to one of the leaders, who were due to be executed the morning after being taken prisoner. Joseph and Grace were married the night before in his prison cell. Joseph (Seosamh Pluinceid)) was one of the leaders of The Rising, a signatory of the Irish Proclamation and, in death, a revered Irish hero. These are my imaginings of ‘her’ final words to him. I include a few words in Irish Gaelic as the movement that led to the rebellion favored speaking Irish, instead of English. I would wager a guess, as they were both poets and writers in the Irish republican movement that she would have chosen to marry her love of country with her love of him in expressing her devotion.
By Marie McGrathExclusive • 11 months ago
Comments (6)
An adorable poem! Love it
Awww, this was so touching. Loved your poemA
This lovely poem does capture the raw, overwhelming, life-altering experience of motherhood. The line, "Squirming into my heart," so beautifully captures the instant, guttural connection between mother and child. It's a compelling exploration of early uncertainty yielding to an unconditional love that reshapes identity and purpose.🌞
What a beautiful poem- it brought tears to my eyes, not tears that fell but that glistened so my dry eyes could see better some of the journey from the past that a mother travels. Lovely!!!
We all remember the feel of our babies in our arms. Nicely done!!
Good job 👏🏻