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My Undiagnosed Postnatal Anxiety - A Poem about Identity

I’m just a ‘mum’, that’s all I am,

careers placed on hold; this is my new jam.


A move interstate? yet another debate,

here we go, this is it, maybe it is fate?


Nothing’s quite the same when we arrive back home,

I sit there alone, and my mind begins to roam.


“I met some nice girls today”, I said over a glass of gin,

they’re not like the last though, my head in a spin.

Who did I think I was throughout my city filled days?

still, I loved my life there, I will miss those old ways.


“Let’s go for a walk with our babes” she would say,

my heart rate increases, my reply, ‘I’m busy today’.

“Come for a coffee at my house instead?”,

the four walls preferred, now don’t be misled.


A casual stroll with babe through the mall,

why can’t I put my shoulders back and just stand tall?

But the chatter is loud, it vibrates off the wall,

my heart starts to race, and I feel so small.


“There’s no time for me”, his response, be aware,

“the kids will be fine, you need some fresh air”.


Excessive worrying, racing thoughts & feelings of dread,

why can’t I remove these thoughts from my head?

It must be all him, as it’s definitely not me,

if I leave now, no hassles, to a certain degree.

Then, I take a step back and decide to look closely,

and I realise.. it’s actually me I despise mostly.


My mind starts to ponder,

the social butterfly does love a good yonder.

It’s time to step up now, and not just for me,

my clan will be fine; I think we all agree.


“The job is yours”; I hear him say,

“when can you start?”, here I go, I’m on my way.

The babes need a good role model, it is time that I see,

everything aligns when it’s meant to be.


It took a good year for things to really progress,

but the thoughts, worries, grabbles start to compress.


It is me; this is it, I smile as tears slip,

A new version of me, wasn’t that a good trip.

I look back now, with eyes wide open,

everything happens for a reason; I was never broken.


I’m just a mum, that’s all I am…

Not true, just find you and let that be your jam.


Written by Sarah Cremona

@themummanest


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