Mama’s Here: A poem for Julia

Parenting has us on a steep learning curve. When Mike and I came home from the hospital we didn’t know how to buckle the straps on the car seat, open the diaper pail, or where to set Julia down. Most of the time I have no clue what I am doing. But the one thing that has gotten me through just about everything is learning how to be present. When Julia is crying in the middle of the night, I ask Jesus for guidance, and he often encourages me to just be present to her, and to myself. I hold her closely and assure her I am with her. I remind myself she is not a problem to be fixed but a person to be with. It’s a lesson I have been learning for myself for a long time now too. When a part of me is screaming for relief, or annoyed by my lack of sleep, I don’t always have to know how to make the pain go away. I can just be there with it, and invite Jesus’s comforting presence to linger there with me awhile.

Mama’s Here: A Poem for Julia

It’s 2AM.
Your eyes say it’s playtime.
You smile at me
and say goo goo.
I ignore the clock and smile back.
Mama’s here, Mama’s here.

Your lower lip curls under.
Your eyebrows turn red.
Too tired to play,
too tired to sleep.
Your limbs wiggle.
Shhh…Mama’s here, Mama’s here.

You start to snooze
but jolt awake.
Your cradle is not mom’s arms.
Your grunts turn to
piercing cries.
Shhh…Mama’s here, Mama’s here.

Your tummy starts to gurgle.
Hunger pains and gassy bubbles.
Your back arches.
Your mouth opens wide.
Your little hands search for the prize.
Shhh…Mama’s here, Mama’s here.

You still can’t sleep,
though you’re satisfied.
Too much growth today.
Your head is visibly bigger.
Your eyes ask me what to do.
Shhh…Mama’s here, Mama’s here.

At last we both sleep a bit.
I wonder if you’re okay.
I stare into your cradle,
already missing your sweet coos.
Your eyes open and your giant smile greets me.
I’m here, Mama, I’m here.