It is not called labour for nothing!

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!189843_10150179435806873_539426872_8333704_5919905_n

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!




  1. 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.

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