I’m the Mom

I wasn’t born a mother,
like my children think.

Once,
not long ago,
I was a child, too.
I hung my head off the couch
and looked at the world
upside down,
lost myself in play,
picked at meals set in front of me,
whined because my favorite dress
was still in the laundry.

Now, small faces look to me
for protection,
comfort, sustenance
assuming I can provide it all.

I worry I’m doing it wrong,
that they’re not having
a good childhood,
or that I’ll lose myself completely
in this process.

But the bottom line is-
they need me to be the mom.
There are no other options.

So everyday, I get up
and do the best I can.
Sometimes it flows from me
like honey,
sometimes it feels
like a thousand bees
swarming.
That’s all.
No natural ability, no formula.
I just look at those beautiful faces
trusting
that I was born this way
and I know
I have to become
what they believe
I am.

By Maria Brady-Smith, circa 1990
Photo by Mike Smith