This poem is dedicated to all mothers, who fresh from birthing say “Never again”, only to do it again! Written in a funny tone, it encapsulates the pain, frustration and joy of having a baby. Happy Mothers’ Day!
It is not called labour for nothing!
Ouch, what is that kick
That makes me sick
Breaking in sweat
Oh my, I am wet
Is that mucous
Oh just focus!
It’s coming, go get the doctor
Stop looking at the buttocks
Tis no time for old wives’ tales
For I am in pains and already pale
I am coming, I am coming, you screamed
Keep pushing, keep pushing now you screech
Oh nurse, this hurt, please do something
It’s not yet time, she keeps snorting
Tis was sweet but now it’s a dilemma
Oh no try a push and a dilation
Those sweet contractions
Are now a contradiction
That leaves me frustrated
No longer besotted
Push, Push, you are all preaching
I am the one that is screeching
The baby must not come breeching
Oh what, I am bleeding!
Maybe I need an epidural
Or is this just procedural
Heavily I breathe
Now I seethe
Not cumming in ecstatic orgasms
But pushing a human organism
Ah, I see a head
Quick I need a lead
Oh nurses stop laughing
Maybe try fawning
This isn’t funny
I don’t feel sunny
This is no botox
Where is the doctor
I might need a suture
To give me succour
Oh dear, here comes my baby
All wet, slippery and bubbly
Beautiful as the morning dew
You have come to pay your due
Ha, tis looking for the boobs
Ready to start the smooch
In my arms tis nestled
All ready to suckle
I am ready to nurture
I guess tis in my nature
Tis suckling, you are rustled
Dad is rippling but bristled
Those boobs are mine alone
On my terms I give and loan
I do all the labour
You get all the flavour
Never again will I be pushed
This was agony I am flushed
I need science of equality to share
Our baby together we should bear
Mommy is that my sibling
Oh no, I must be blinking
Can’t afford to miss my periods
Cos things can get too serious
Little bump and grind and the baby pops
Now all I do is push a tot that sobs
But then I should know
One, two, three years now
I can see a rounded tummy
Ready again to be a mommy!
BY ©YEMISI ILESANMI
Giliell, professional cynic says
Hehe, the German word for labour is “Wehen” which literally means “those which hurt”.
And no, I’m done.
When you can hold and snuggle a baby ad then think “thank goodness I don’t have to take that home”, you know that you’re done.