Rock of Grief

Sharp, spikey, painful to touch

Difficult to lift, to hold, to carry

Yet I carry it everywhere I go.

Lost

Lost in a world full of expectations.

My own and those of others.

I will sing you a lullaby.
And I will love you till the day I die.

I never questioned whether I wanted to become a mother. I always knew I did. From a young age I assumed I would get the opportunity.