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Writer's pictureVictoria Monet

Letters to My Son #2: You Were Made For My Left Hip

Updated: Jul 23, 2021


You were made for my left hip

Legs hugged around my side

Tethered to a safe place

Like your shelter inside


Bones shifted,

Hips widened

Making room for your

Underwater heartbeat


Deep-sea diving to chomp

That piece of sushi

Mama wasn’t supposed to eat


Little fingers grab salty goldfish

Submerged in a lime green snack cup

Successfully hooked and into the mouth


Saltine crackers,

One of the only cures for day-long nausea

The size of a pea, and the power

to keep me on the couch all day long


My lips purse your sweaty hair

The bald crown I once kissed

Held under my chin

Feet barely touching my breasts

Where I nourished your warm body,

Laid on my chest, tiny, and

Finally, at peace for the moment


A toddler body

Envelopes my torso,

Squirms and fights to get out of my arms

I can’t hold you long


Like the day when your

Head pressed down

Ready to come out because


My bones shifted for you, and

You were custom made for my left hip


But you won’t fit there forever


I’ll loosen my grip

little

by little


Show you the world

one piece

at a time


Slow down,

Little one


Grow now,

little one.



A note about this poem: Written January 22, 2021 when my son was 20 months old.

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