Nothing but Mother

After birth, I am all at once at home

and out of place. Every task now a

luxury of time. I want to spend all

day with the baby, I want to spend

all day alone. This month I have done

nothing but mother, my body given

in service to a tiny human I just met.

Still, the baby’s breath rises and falls,

her hand on my neck. I am a planet, a

universe. And even though nothing

else has been done, I imagine all great

things began with someone who

stopped their own orbit for a moment

in time to do nothing at all but mother.

Copyright © 2023 Hannah Napier Rosenberg

Hannah Napier Rosenberg writes semi-to-very autobiographical poetry and prose and loves writing as a way to connect to others through shared experiences. She is particularly interested in using words to find magic in the ordinary. You can find her on Instagram @hannahrowrites, online at hannahrowrites.com and get in touch via email at hannah@hannahrowrites.com.