guest poem: “becoming a mother”

 Today’s post is a poem I read by a fellow stepmom. It had me in tears by the end. ♥️ 

“Becoming a Mother”

By Amalia Grannis

Beasts Of The Mountain Poetry Collective

Asheville, NC

———————

I had no way of knowing I was becoming a mom.

There were none of the tell tale signs

To alert me to what was going on.

I had no swollen breasts or strange cravings.

There was no nesting, planning, or saving.

There were no doctors or process to trust.

I was not thrust into motherhood with a bloody show.

I did not grow any rounder or inherit the glow.

I did not open up the portal to the unknown.

I did not offer the usual sacrifice.

I did not bring forth her life.

There was no ambush.

I did not push.

Through pain or anguish

I didn't have to learn the language.

I suffered no bodily damage.

No, this isn't an advantage.

There was no pregnancy.

No legacy.

No gore.

No glory.

Some could say the title isn't for me

Because I did not arrive with a war story.

But I pack her lunch, pen a note, and 

I drive her to school in the morning.

She took me by the hand

Introduced me to her teachers 

"This is my step mom, 

I'd really like you to meet her."

Flanked by the parents of her blood 

I am the parent of good enough.

Of here when you need me.

Of here because I wanna be.

Truthfully.

I have neither right nor responsibility.

So how did I get here? 

If I was not thrust?

I stepped —

Up.

I stepped in.

I stepped forward with a grin.

I wake up, I tuck in.

In the evening quiet and the morning din.

I step into the role I've been given.

I step.

And stumble.

And tumble.

Head first.

I am not trained.

I am immersed.

I am a step in the right direction.

I am organic connection.

I am a step forward.

When she's nervous.

I don't know where I learned this.

I am a step toward a life of service.

A bold step across the gap.

A deep breath, a map.

I am a step along her path.

Soothing coughs.

Teaching math.

I step above the call of duty.

I step beyond my station, truly.

And I'm sorry to her parents when my actions are too much.

I don't mean to imply that you aren't enough.

It is not to jockey for position.

When was a kid,

I just wanted someone to listen.

And I have been given,

The chance.

To do right by someone small

Who doesn't get to choose her life at all.

But she does get to choose what she wants to call —

Me.

l wear the title proudly.

It's not just about who I am to your father.

Child, I love you.

You are my daughter.