THIS PAGE HAS MOVED!
Everything in this site is now built around my blog, which is now available right at krismom.com!

You'll find the updated version of this page there, or you can search the blog to find info on the subject. As a young married mommy, I blog about anything and everything from my experiences surviving PPD and OCD, to coping with pain from car accident injuries, to daily life with kids, to scrapbooking and card-making, to blogging and internet/new media topics.

An ode to all the house plants that have died during my post-partum depression
And to the ones that (miraculously) survived...

Your leafy greeness couldn't keep me whole
Or motivated to get off the floor
When I was falling to my lowest low
And didn't think that I could do much more

Then your fading didn't wake me up
I saw your roots distressed, your soil dry
But still I didn't hear the call to arms
Still I could not bring myself to try

As the small and weak ones withered next
I still could just stare vacantly and pray
These heavy hands which could not carry water
As life within me faded day by day

I burried some of you from time to time
Each one an added guilt for me to bear
A failure of my always nurturing ways
A sign that I had lost my knack of care

And yet I noticed tiny shoots of green
A chosen few showed strength to carry on
Burried deep within their soil was stored
The history of care from days long gone

I'd given of myself when once I could
For some, it was enough to last them through
Their leaves stood proudly seeking for the sun
While waiting for the time I'd come anew

So open up the windows, bring the light
Dust off the watering can, prepare the soil
A whispering is afoot that time is nigh
For mother's hands to turn back to her toil

I meet these days with face towards the dawn
The hope within me brimming over my cup
Against all this uncertainty I am strong
As I struggle boldy to get up

This dark floor - my resting place too long
All that I have missed and lost, I mourn
But as I look to plants that still live on
Inspiration comes in hope reborn

March 24, 2005

Getting up from the rocking chair,
we're both warm and cozy from the cuddle.
His eyes are still closed, his body heavy in my arms.

Gently lowering him into the crib,
tucking the soft white blanket around him.
His hand curls over the top and he holds the fabric lightly.

His eyes flicker open a tiny bit,
but he is lulled back to sleep by the peaceful music.
And my hand gently stroking his tiny head of downy hair.

He sleeps so soundly now,
with small sighs and rhythmic breathing.
I notice so many little details, like the sunbeam beside him.

This one precious moment
was everything I wanted, and more...
I'm ever thankful it's not too good to be true.