Aren’t you a mother?

Expectations pile
Only mothers know this
We get big
We get hormonal
We get ripped apart by melon heads
We get overwhelmed with love

Huh, overwhelmed
Funny word
Actually, ironic. Not funny
Actually, genuine. Not ironic
Actually, painful. More than genuine

I am expected
You don’t have to say it
It’s in my blood
My DNA
My genes
My XX chromosomes
My stretch marks left over
And the weight left over, too

What else is left over?
Left behind?
Actually, left in front
This dump truck
Guilt
“That’s what you get.”
For what?
I taste that daily
Heartbeats that race
Pound out like a million bass drums
They muffle everything around
I want silence
I want peace
I want a moment that’s mine
“For being a mother.”

Stress?
You know her?
I definitely do
She chases me day in
And day out
With relaxation she sighs
“Motherhood.”
I can’t escape her

And in a moment of weakness
I give in and decide nothing is worth this
This pain
This anxiety
This anger
This depression

But I shouldn’t feel any of this
“Aren’t you a mother?”