Author Archives: Gráinne Evans

Mothers Day


They tell me it’s a special day for mummies everywhere,

But mum it mustn’t feel like that while I’m in special care.

You needn’t worry mummy that things right now are tough,

‘cos all the love you’ve given me is already more than enough,

to get us through this battle, the good days and the bad,

think of all the hugs to come, all the cuddles to be had.

I know it’s hard to leave me and I know you’d choose to stay

but your love surrounds me always, all night and every day.

I promise I’m not sad or lonely, I’m just biding my time

until you can bring me with you to the home that is all mine.

So when things are going backwards and it all feels so wrong

remember what you’ve given me and that you’ve made me strong.

I knew what I was doing, I have your brains too you see

So when we were choosing mummies, I knew you were PERFECT for me!”

Happy mother’s day.




New motherhood was looming and I thought I knew it all,

I’d breathe and pant and push just right after bouncing on my ball.

Instead a surgeon’s knife was called when my induction failed.

A perfect baby boy was born though my birth plans were derailed.


Finally they placed him on my chest, under my gown.

And though the golden hour had passed, with help, my breast he found.

So grateful I could feed him, at least I could do that.

Exhausted, sore and stapled, legs laid numb and flat.


I fed him and I loved him but it never was quite right

My nipples bled and up and down I’d pace the hall at night.

Turns out I really didn’t know what was normal, who to call.

All too soon I doubted if I could make enough milk at all.


It wasn’t getting easier, “What’s happened to his sleep?”

Without support, I just assumed he wasn’t getting enough to eat.

Everyone agreed of course. “You’ve done enough” they said.

“You’ve earned a break.” “It’ll be alright.” “It only matters that he’s fed.”


So despite the guilt already creeping in my mind,

I searched the shelves of powder for the “Hungry Baby” kind.

Life moved along. “It’s for the best.” I’d often tell myself.

Though secretly I felt ashamed, like I had failed the test.


Now motherhood’s no longer new and each baby taught me more.

How every journey is unique like every one before.

And looking back it’s clear to me that they were wrong to say,

That how I chose to feed them didn’t matter anyway.


Because breastfeeding matters! Of this there is no doubt.

Of course it does or why else would that voice inside us shout.

I’ve also learned that I was wrong to feel either guilt or shame

I was failed. I did not fail….I was not to blame!


I should have been supported, informed and made aware

Of how baby’s only happy when mummy is right there.

Told how nights are easier when mum and babe co-sleeps,

Of feeds that come in clusters and growth that comes in leaps.


Though I grieve what might’ve been I’ve made my peace and know

I did the best that I could do, learning’s how we grow.

Information isn’t pressure. Mums deserve the truth, cos when

You know better, you do better when you get the chance again.


Breastfeeding should be valued as the gift it is to all.

We need to move past talk of guilt and help heal wounds still raw.

I can’t change what happened but I can help the next mum,

To listen to her instincts, to succeed and overcome.


All Mothers deserve better and it’s time we made demands

Better births and fairer treatment, health care that understands

Bottles aren’t the only answer. Breastfeeding works when it is seen

As a skill that’s worth investing in and when we’re all on the same team.

My Support Group 

My Support Group 

For BFNI. 
When it feels like no one else gets it, 

You’re the group who knows how it feels. 
When it seems all around me are judging, 

Here at least I don’t need to conceal. 
You share in my joy at each milestone, 

Send virtual hugs when it’s hard. 
No matter the day or the hour, 

Here I know I can let down my guard. 
To you I can admit when I struggle, 

And be proud without fear I’ll seem smug. 
This group is a haven, a safe space, 

Where support is a powerful drug. 
Each triumph is celebrated together, 

With others who truly understand. 
So I’ll keep sharing my journey, 

If you all keep holding my hand. 

Hold Me Mummy


Hold Me Mummy

(a poem by your newborn)


Hold me Mummy, hold me skin to skin

I need to feel you in the brightness and din

of this enormous new world I’m suddenly in.

We’ll fall in love on a wave of oxytocin,

so hold me Mummy, hold me skin to skin.


Hold me Mummy with my head on your chest

where I’ll feel you, smell you and calmly rest

in your arms. I’m safe. You’re my world, my nest.

I need only your love and milk from your breast,

so hold me Mummy with my head on your chest.


Hold me Mummy with your skin touching mine

and when I’m hungry I’ll give you a sign.

I’ll squirm or wriggle. Grasping hands mean it’s time.

Constant feeding is normal, you’re doing just fine,

so hold me Mummy with your skin touching mine.


Hold me Mummy, place my ear on your heart.

Let its rhythm sync mine, still one though apart.

Connection through touch is the perfect start

to our journey together we’ll learn this art,

so hold me Mummy, place my ear on your heart.


Hold me Mummy and kiss my soft head.

I know you are tired and for my life you’ve bled.

I promise I’m worth every stitch and tear shed

and I know you love me, it doesn’t need said

when you hold me Mummy and kiss my soft head.



I Make Milk


I Make Milk.


It grows you from newborn, fuzzy and creased,

Transforms wrinkles to rolls, each sweet milky feast,

Makes you rounder and stronger, smarter too,

More amazing, more perfect, more uniquely you.

And it gives me a confidence, a quiet trust,

In my body, my ability, that I am enough,

So if anyone questions why I do what I do,

I tell them straight, on the bus, at the zoo,

No matter the place, the reason or hour,

“I make milk – what’s your superpower?”



I Carry You Always


I Carry You Always.

A poem for European Babywearing Week 2017

New life in my belly, I carried you inside.

Birthed into my arms and from first you cried,

I wrapped you softly in cloth tied around,

Placed gently where you’d still hear my heart’s sound.


While cushy fabric held us skin to skin,

I fell in love and I breathed you in.

Happiness; smelling your head on my chest.

I was your world as you nursed at my breast.


I carried you as you explored and learned,

At exploits end, to my arms you returned.

I carried you safe and close as you grew,

Learned to walk, to run and before I knew,

I’d carried you to a new phase, new zone.

Watched you stride into a life of your own.


What once woven threads held bound together,

Now bonds of love form an unseen tether,

Keeping us connected when we’re apart,

‘Cos I carry you always…  in my heart.


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