Oh mamma, I just can’t get you out of my head. 

Your body is still tender from the marathon you’ve just run. Your heart still exposed from the journey you’ve just travelled.

Was it last night? 
The night before? 
Who was with you while you toiled? 
Were you alone? 
Did someone hold your hand while you cried, wipe your brow as you sweat? 
Did your cries even matter? 
Does anyone even care? 

I cannot help but wonder, who made you so invisible that nobody noticed as the gorgeous product of your womb came earth-side without a peep. How did a wonder so precious arrive without fanfare? How did you return home without a baby without someone knowing? Are you that alone? Are you that unseen?

I can’t sleep thinking that somewhere, in the cloak of the Joburg night, you are hiding the tenderness of a body post childbirth. You are still bleeding, your breasts likely leaking and sore, your body aching from the grueling journey you just completed. Alone. 

I can’t stop wondering how we exist in a world where you matter so little. How are you so invisible to the world that your stomach expanded and burst without anyone noticing? Are you so alone that not a soul cares. How do I breathe in a world where you can feel so desperate that you leave your precious, beautiful girl, alone on a cold street and walk away.

We have failed you mamma. I am so sorry.

I know that you are longing, wondering, pining. I know this because I am you and you are me and there is no possible way that your life today feels like the life before you walked away from her and I ache knowing I cannot wipe your tears and hold your hand and make it all better. 

But I have her here. 
She is alive. 
She is well.
We named her ‘Love’. 
You need not worry. 
Take care of YOU today mamma. Take care of your broken body. Mend your shattered heart.  

I am you.
And you are me. 
And in our connect there is a knowingness. She is Love. You are seen. I am sorry.