On being fruitful (and multiplying)

I used to think it wouldn't matter, much
to who I am
what I am
the core-of-me

Oh, I knew I wanted to do it. Always, I knew that
and that love would be involved. a lot of it.
I surmised it could be difficult
and constraining
and tiring.

but I guess I thought
that it was a Thing that happened, and was intense and huge and all that
and then
at some point
it kind of stopped happening.
stopped consuming earth and sky
and you went back
to what you were,
who you were,
before.

I suppose I did not consider
that what we are and who we are
is built in the trenches of experience, as much
as written in the blood.
that this particular experience
(this once, twice, three times bearing)
would be not only intense
not only difficult
not only suffused with love beyond my compass
but
would overrun me.
I did not know it would permanently rewire the pathways
change not just surface but core
remake me, utterly and completely

I am not just a mother, no
but bearing fruit
the monstrous joyfulness of it, the operatic pain, the impossibilities and serendipities of it
has made me a person who is infused with mothering. a person
who would be different entirely
without this

this Thing that I always planned to do
but never knew
it would do me in return.

- Kathy, 25/6/11