I can’t say anymore that I JUST had a baby. 
You can’t really tell much by looking.
The outward signs are fading on me.

We’re told to be happy, when we look like ourselves again.
The extra weight is leaving.
I’m getting better sleep.
I feel proud of myself.

But I can’t say it. 
There’s always a feeling that people don’t want to hear how proud you are of yourself.
They don’t ask anymore, so we shy away from offering ourselves up. 
Mothers feel forgotten once the baby is out.

The vessel is left to rebuild in the shadows.
It’s wonderful, the process, the magic, but it’s sad too. 

The goal is always to feel better as soon as possible.
And when that happens, it’s sad.
It’s sad because some days, I want to feel it again.

I want to feel rundown.
I want to feed defeated.
I want to feel the magic building inside.
I want to feel the rush of being pushed to the absolute limit.

I want people to think I’m magic again.
I want people to care about me.

The magic is out now, right in front of me.
The days I dreamed of are here.
Four children. How did I get this lucky? So many never get this chance.

Be grateful, they tell us.
And carry on.

But I just want it all within me again. 
Surrounded all the time, I feel alone, forgotten. 
Which, in a way, is what I wanted. 
To be surrounded by so many, sometimes you want to sit in the shadows.

But, at the same time, I want the light on me again. 
I want to feel full.

When you hit 9 months, you’ve had enough.
You feel like you’ll erupt. 
It’s enough time. 
The time to go. 

But then, they leave you. 
The baby, the crowd, the light.
Each step is a step away. 
Them away from you, and you away from another version of yourself. 

Time to rebuild.
A constant reinvention
Time to meet another me,
But I just got used to the other one.

Time to get acquainted with this tiny human.
This human who you feel like you know everything about.
You know this human on a cellular level.
Just the two of you, growing as one.

But, also, you know nothing about them.
Not on the outside.

You ask how, but nobody will say. 
You’re just told to do it. 
It just clicks. It just happens. You’ll just know.

It’s harder than ever because I know this is it. 
We’re complete. I feel it in my soul.
It’s gratifying to know if I could do it all again I would. 
The same path. 
The same hurdles.
The same triumphs.

I’ve always been one to linger in the past. 
It’s fun to look back, to learn, to laugh.
Retelling the same stories that hit just right each time.
But the past can hang you up.

When I read it back, it’s contradictory, so confusing, but it’s true. 
To be all that you can be all at once, all that your body is meant to be. 
To feel so happy and so sad in the same breath.
The major shift from feeling so full to so empty. 
To be in awe of this magic. 
To see it and live it and love it every day. 
And yet, I just want it all within me again. 

Nobody lets us talk about what it’s like when the magic leaves you. 
They only want to know how you are when the magic is inside.
To no fault of their own.
That’s what society has taught us.
Like with fashion trends and popular restaurants,
Focus on the new, and disregard the old. Life is about moving on.

You can’t ever fully understand, unless it’s happened to you.
But, even those who have experienced it turn a shoulder too.
Afraid to ask or share or hear that someone is doing better.
So where does that leave us? 

In the shadows.
In an age of renewed disrespect for women.
Our bodies treated like machines.
We are told to produce, not protest.
We are meant to grieve in silence.

We are left navigating alone, like passing ships in the night.
Figuring it out as we go. Not because we want to, because we have to. 

Grabbing hold of a willing hand when we can.
We tell ourselves we’re okay, when sometimes we’re not.
When will it be okay to not be okay? When will we be allowed to breathe?
We shout into a void waiting for someone to look up, to answer, to say you matter too.

Feelings are real, even when you’re told they’re not.
You’re not crazy.
You are so filled with life and love and sadness and realness that it’s hard for others to understand. They close their minds to that which they cannot comprehend.

They won’t give you the time, so you must take it.
They won’t say it, so you must remind them,
It takes a magician to make magic.