Parenthood

The joys, the frustration, the ultimate gift

Colleen Millsteed

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A darling baby boy held in the palm of a hand.
Image courtesy of Pixabay

Dear Son,

I could see the pride in your eyes as you delivered the news,
The future is changing before your very eyes,
Your name will be passed to the next generation,
And you’ll meet your mini-you, only pint-size.

I hope this will show you my past struggles and joys,
As you make similar sacrifices as is needed,
The lack of sleep, the feeling of doing it wrong,
Until discovering years later you actually succeeded.

There’ll be nights you’ll question your sanity,
Then the next day you’ll hear a sweet giggle and know,
Those feelings you felt in the darkest of times,
Were all part of the sacrificial flow.

The constant crying will get inside your head at times,
But then the wins will make that all disappear,
The milestones achieved will swell your pride,
And help you realise you can dispel your fear.

When slumber shows you an innocent face,
You’ll beat yourself up for the anger earlier in the day,
Don’t be too hard on yourself…

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Colleen Millsteed

Top Writer in Poetry. I’m a Finance Manager with a love of both numbers and words.