Birthing pools, delayed cord clamping, drug-free delivery and all
12 hours of being in labour later,
I gave in when I was tired and had an epidural.
I thought I’d be a hippy mum,
I’d baby-wear her on my chest
We weren’t going to spoil her with unnecessary cuddles
And with her diet, breast is best.
I thought I’d be a hippy mum
rewarded with a healthy baby’s beam,
if I eat organic and not use chemicals,
But one whiff of her cradle cap, I’m applying steroid cream.
I’d thought I’d be a hippy mum,
But I confess I’ve topped up with formula and tried
hard to not harbor angry thoughts when she wouldn’t settle
and given her a binky when I didn’t know why she cried.
Those who’ve met her think I’ve got it together
but I’ll admit it is a front. Don’t aspire to be me
She seems so well behaved in public
but will scream my wits off in a jiffy.
So I know now I’m not a hippy mum,
yet amidst daytime TV, I cuddle her with ease,
The housework’s undone, I eat chocolate by the ton
and I nurse her whenever she please.
NB: Apparently I fancied myself a poet too, but I clearly am not anywhere close, but thank you for putting up with me whilst I try to not overload this blog with too many boring motherhood posts but not much else that I used to be all about before has been happening in my life right now to warrant blog posts. Will hopefully be back on track soon after this ‘break’.
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