I don’t know much.
but, what I do know.
I am mother.
I am not confused about this.
let me be clear.

I conceived and expanded and moaned to birth and took my three children in my arms, from body to breast and from there…raised up.
sleepless nights and countless cries and turbulent tantrums and wild days of not knowing how in the heck to do it all with only two hands, two arms, one loyally striving heart.
there are too many words and no time; for my hands are quite full at the thought of it…wrapping those days up in the insufficient package of nouns and verbs and adjectives.
never enough energy. a stretching of spirit beyond measurable evidence. provision from prayer. consistently returning to the insane degree of love that comes from being mother. mom. the one.

the one who picks up with magic kisses and bares her predator teeth when needed.
I will not shy away from my mother bear burn.
I stand up in it.
capable.
expansive.
solid and protective.
seeing.

I have heard the cries that come from walking through fires helped set ablaze by hands that want to now cradle.
I have dug to the very depths to try and answer questions that no child need ask.
I. am. mother.
I am not confused.
I hold their hearts in the ways I held them in my womb.
wholly.
fully.
undoubtedly.
completely.
there was no second guessing then.
there is no second guessing now.
I do not own them, no. but they are mine.
they came through my flesh, bone and blood.
my will.
they have known the inner whispers of the very center of my being.
let me provide definition to help ease the doubt.
I am not confused.
my babies know home in the center of my chest.
they chose me.
I chose them.

we choose each other.

there are many things I have little to no answer for.
fault and blame and direction is nearly insignificant at this point.
the could have beens and the might have you’s and the yet to be’s.
really.
they are no longer relevant.
all that is; is now.
all that speaks is the constant beat of my own heart that stretches to work for them and for me in the myriad of ways I feel pulled to labor.
we belong to each other.

so I take my place on this soft, deep seat of the earth.
this unique chair in the world to my happiness, journey and little island bear.
my people.
the ones who came through.
my three.
my children.
whom I mother.
and will for as long as i have the ability to utter truth from these seeking lungs.

mother.
mom.
mama.
I am.

I am becoming.
I stand in the grief of the past and the hope of the future and from there, I create space.
this is where we do life.
this is how we find truth.
this…the steps within this…is where we find our way.