That First Year – Freeverse
That first year
(after Karen McMillan)
That first year
The year of oatmeal and loads of garlic.
No. More. Street. Food.
The year of burp cloths,
Wet wipes, branded diapers,
Mittens, socks, pacifiers.
And we became expert wipers.
The year of saving you
From uncontrollable let-downs,
Lest milk sprays on your face.
I always kept spare gowns.
The year of non-spicy food,
Questions to my mother.
The year of being shrewd,
Attentive, and resilient.
The year of crazy photographing,
Discussions of galactagogues.
The year of learning and growth.
Having secret monologues.
The year the mirror gathered dust,
While I forgot myself.
I let my ornaments rust,
’Cause I always looked like a rag doll.
The year of rocking and more rocking
Until our arms numbed.
We never had the slightest inkling
That the rocking would continue for years.
The year of constant fatigue,
Yearning for self-love and self-care.
The year of abundant hair-fall
That gave me a persistent scare.
The year of returning to work
With a heart heavier than a dumbbell.
My face held a permanent smirk
When people asked about my sleep.
The year of ignoring my friends,
Leaving messages unread.
The year of cutting off contacts
And caring for my mental health, instead.
The year of releasing my pre-written book,
Breaking the stigma around motherhood.
The year of warding off the evil eye
And craving for my childhood.
The year of making you my everything,
Holding you in every breath I took.
The year of not giving up
And always being enough.
©Kavya Janani. U
If you are in love with my poems, please consider purchasing a copy of my poetry collection – La Douleur Exquise.
You can check out my other freeverse poems here: Freeverse Poems by Kavya Janani. U