We envy dough

The push and pull of trying to be enough in motherhood

Rising dough pressing at the cellophane ceiling 

Pushing to pour out

Dipped cup of sugar, pulled up from bag

Little beads running over and over

Objects of fullness

How I envy you

What is it to feel complete 

To know the limits of joy and peace 

Whispering behind content lips

This is enough

Little pulling my hair as I reply to a text

Little sitting on the stairs, strained voice calls

We-gotta-go! 

Sitting down to the hot plate, 

As small words reach out 

for more

When will I get more

When will these moments fill me up

Because I keep pouring out

Until I’m empty 

Do I just need to be tough

To feel like enough

Do I dare 

To grit and bare 

Until little fingers grow 

Big and strong

Hoping with age I’ll know the feeling

Of being enough again

Looking back whispering

All I want are the little hands again

There is no answer to the push 

And pull of motherhood 

We feel empty; we pour out 

We envy the dough

The cups of sugar 

Brimming over

Hoping someday we will fill up

Hoping someday we will feel enough

Accepting someday might not be today

Accepting some days we might be wishing it all away

Trusting that

It. Is. Okay.

Say it again 

Until you believe 

It

Is

Okay 

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Enough".