Things a new mother knows

A poem for those who hold and those who need to be held

Hello.

I wrote this poem in those early, sleepless nights of motherhood. When Noah felt glued to my chest, his little head resting on my body, all hours of day and night.

The position we held for weeks and months.

We have already changed our shape—now his head on my shoulder, his legs draped below my waist, the weight of his body manifests in the bulge of…