REAL POEMS FOR REAL MOMS - WEEK 3 PGS. 41 - 60

REAL POEMS FOR REAL MOMS by Rachel S. DONAHUE

How do I choose a handful of the poems this week to write about when so many of them are windows to my life?

Shucking Corn - Only one time have I shucked corn in large amounts preparing for winter. Typically the shucking around my house equals a dozen ears thrown in a pot for supper. But there is an element of this poem that sticks out to me that I have been pondering since the death of my grandparents. When they passed away it became very clear to me that the baton passed to my parents, but that I was next on the ladder. It was now my job to start to step up and pass down the legacy to the next generation. My grandparents left big shoes to fill. They taught us about our heritage, traditions, creating a strong family bond, and such. Even more, though, was their Christian faith. All four of my grandparents were Christians and well known in their communities and churches. Now my children are getting older. It is amazing to look at my two oldest and realize that I was married at their age. (I was married at 20) How fun it is to see them launch out and lead in their lives. The next rung is forming.

Trampoline- My youngest is always looking for someone to jump on the trampoline with her. Sometimes she ropes her older siblings in and sometimes it is me.

At the Beach - In my children's younger years this was absolute truth. I would pack tons of books and hardly touch them, but I'm finding the beach days are changing. They no longer need me to hold onto them in the water or build sand castles. The books are being read. It is bittersweet.

Little One Lost - This is where I'll end. To all of us that have experienced a miscarriage (or more than one), I have to say a few words. Those were some hard days. After experiencing successful pregnancies and then to lose a baby to miscarriage I know I wondered if I would be able to successfully carry a child again. The possibility of loss was very real, and all the ways that it could happen in these amazing, yet complicated, bodies that we live in became evident. I mourned that little baby. After carrying our next little one to full term, I distinctly remember crying when we pulled out of the hospital to take my newborn daughter home. I looked at my husband and told him, "We did it! She's here, she's okay, and she's coming home with us." (Actually God did it!) Her middle name bears that happiness, "Joy." There was another successful pregnancy and then another loss. It was still very hard, but I knew the journey I had to walk through personally, because I had done it before. I remember looking out a window when the bleeding began and saying to God that He knew how much I would love to have this child, but I also told Him that if that didn't happen, I knew where that little baby would be, and as hard as it was for me to imagine, they would be loved even more than I could possibly love them. I mourned and let the go. One more successful pregnancy followed and that is our tribe. The world sees me as a mother of 5, but I am actually a mother of 7. I just have 2 that are waiting for me in Heaven. I don't know if they are boys or girls, but their earthly names are Hope and Faith. They will always be a part of me, and I have a birthstone necklace that I wear that bears not 5 stones, but 7.