Sunday, May 9, 2010
I didn't sign up to be a Warrior Mom.
It was awarded to me by default: I showed up to mother a baby.
In the early days of our adoption,
I clanked around in oversize Armor that hung heavy and slow.
It took me awhile to realize that it had been designed for me to grow into...
I'd been outfitted as a Warrior Mom
but didn't understand what I was fighting.
It was with fear and steel
that I dealt with awful knowledge:
I was fighting for the love and affection
of a baby who no longer trusted.
Making a child's world right
is all-consuming and never-ending.
I figured out why I wore Armor: it held me up at the end of the day.
So many invisible dragons to slay!
I battled for my baby
and I battled to be her mother.
I took rejection -- arrows glancing off metal-- and came back for more.
I demanded a place in the life of my daughter
and I learned to share her with her past.
I became a Warrior Mom
and ditched the Armor, but kept the shield.
Not for me, but to protect the child that became mine
through sweat and tears and years of no sleep!
Who knew this Mom could tilt at windmills
angry feelings and powerful ghosts?
I don't cook, can't sew, won't craft
but I learned I could fight
and I don’t give up.
Sometimes it takes a Warrior Mom
to claim a child who has gone past love.
a Mother's Will is Mighty.
It can make love spring from metal
And change Armor to open arms.
by Jean MacLeod
Copyright 2004, MacLeod, All Rights Reserved