In connection to the blog published on Monday about motherhood and writing, I wrote this poem after giving birth to my first child, my daughter. I remember sitting in the rocking chair just after giving birth to her and creating it in my head as we rocked together. The poem was published in a local Hawaii anthology called Strong Currents: An anthology by Hawai’i Writers (2002).


Burdened with decisions

and laden with pain,

my body reacts with life.

Moving from childless to motherhood,

I am wrapped by vice-like fingers

across my abdomen

that squeeze and steal my breath.

Fear moves through my blood,

yet ignites a desire to explore

the unknown realm before me.

Life has happened,

daily monotony has turned

into joyous minutes that pass like hours.

Through this exhaustion a treasure awaits.

With a force,

a supernatural force

unknown to me,

I push you from the warmth to the cold

I invite you into my world,

Arms open,

Belly and breasts bared.

You are beautiful.

You are my finest achievement.

You are my daughter.

We are whole.

Rereading it through lenses almost twenty years older, I would rewrite the poem. However, the poignancy connected to this piece is it was my very first publication (along with a short story in the same anthology).