Motherhood began one summer night after a rained-out baseball game, a cardamom muffin, and a cryptic move on the couch. The cardamom still spicy in my mouth, my sides began to ache and my bulging pregnant belly tightened like a heat-swelled raft. The first pains, the first aches, the first pushes as my spicy little one kicked his way further down into the world. What followed was a violent, thunderous burst in my heart and a clean, fresh page to my purpose. Since that first night, breaths have been as frantic, tears have flowed as freely, and I’m still aching in that awestruck, expectant way.
Motherhood began one summer night after a rained-out baseball game, a cardamom muffin, and a cryptic move on the couch.
– Mary Dombrowski
This piece was first published in Mamalode’s Identity print issue.
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