“Does he sleep?” is another for the first time mother,
“Sleep? What’s that?” she said.
Since her baby was born, she’s awake ‘till the morn,
With him nuzzled beside her in bed.
She pops him into the crib, takes off his cute bib,
Not a sound she makes while he sleeps.
One foot on the floor, trying to get to that door,
Doing yoga moves she balances and creeps.
Two inches from the door, there’s a creak from the floor,
Then it’s waaaaaaah from across the room.
His lordship is awake, what a sound he can make,
And back to the crib she will zoom..
Her hair is a mess, she has puke on her dress,
And her boobs are a whopping Double E.
Most days in her jammies, in awe of the mammies,
In their figure hugging dress to the knee.
She doesn’t get much time, as you can sense from this rhyme,
A trip to Tesco is the highlight of her week.
And if she goes there alone, sure she’s glued to the phone,
Praying those Double E whoppers don’t leak.
Her G.P. asked what she was using, as he sat there choosing,
Which birth-control would suit her best.
“You are joking?” she gasped, her hands firmly clasped,
“Our sex life has taken a rest.”
Do couples re-ignite, their passion at night,
Only a few weeks after giving birth?
I need help if you please, I’m afraid to even sneeze,
My pelvic floors have lost all their worth.
“You’ll be fine in a while”, he said with a smile,
“Things will settle in every way.”
“Your ways you will learn and sleep will return.”
“Let’s have another,” you might even say.
A few months have passed, there’s routine there at last,
Mammy and baby; learning from each other.
Enjoying her new role, feeling love in her soul.
The precious gift of being a mother.
© Denise Kenny
http://www.itbeginswithaverse.com
Filed under: A selection of some of my poems
