Mother’s Day poems on motherhood to share with your mother, grandmother, daughters, and mothers-to-be in celebration of the women who helped us become the wonderful person we are today!

My Mother’s Garden

My Mother kept a garden,
a garden of the heart,
She planted all the good things
that gave my life it’s start.

She turned me to the sunshine
and encouraged me to dream,
Fostering and nurturing
the seeds of self-esteem…

And when the winds and rain came,
she protected me enough
But not too much because she knew
I’d need to stand up strong and tough.

Her constant good example
always taught me right from wrong
Markers for my pathway
that will last a lifetime long.

I am my Mother’s garden.
I am her legacy
And I hope today she feels the love
reflected back from me

~ Author Unknown ~

Before I was a Mom…

Before I was a Mom…
I made and ate hot meals.
I had unstained clothing.
I had quiet conversations on the phone.

Before I was a Mom…
I slept as late as I wanted.
And never worried about how late I got
into bed.
I brushed my hair and my teeth every day.

Before I was a Mom…
I cleaned my house each day.
I never tripped over toys or forgot words
to lullabies.

Before I was a Mom…

I didn’t worry whether or not my plants
were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was Mom…

I had never been puked on,
Pooped on,
Spat on,
Chewed on,
Peed on,
Or pinched by tiny fingers.

Before I was a Mom…

I had complete control of my mind,
My thoughts.
My body,
And my time.
I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom…

I never held down a screaming child,
So that doctors could do tests,
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and
cried.

Before I was a Mom…

I never got gloriously happy over
a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours
at  night
Watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom…

I never held a sleeping baby just because.
I didn’t want to put it down.
I never felt my heart break into a million
pieces
When I couldn’t stop the hurt.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom…

I didn’t know the feeling of having my
heart outside my body.
I didn’t know how special it could feel to
feed a hungry baby.
I didn’t know that bond between a mother
and her child.
I didn’t know that something so small
could make me feel so important.

Before I was a Mom…

I had never risen in the middle of the night
Every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth,
The joy,
The love,
The heartache,
The wonderment,
Or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn’t know I was capable
of  feeling so much before I was a Mom!

~ Author Unknown ~

A Mother’s Letter to Her Three Children

Dear First Born:

I’ve always loved you best because you were my miracle. You were the genesis of a marriage and the fulfillment of young love. You sustained me through the hamburger years, the first apartment (furnished in Early Poverty), and my first mode of transportation (feet).

You were new, had unused grandparents, and enough clothes for a set of triplets. You were the original model for a mom who was trying to work the bugs out. You got the strained lamb, the open safety pins and three-hour naps. You were the beginning.

Dear Middle Child:

I’ve always loved you best because you drew a tough spot in the family, and it made you stronger for it. You cried less, had more patience, wore faded hand-me-downs, and never in your life did you get anything first. But it only made you special.

You were the one I relaxed with, and realized a dog could kiss you and you wouldn’t get sick. You could cross the street by yourself long before you were old enough to get married . . . and you helped me understand the world wouldn’t collapse if you went to bed with dirty feet.

You were the child of my busy, ambitious years, and without you, I would not have survived the job changes and the tedium and routine that is marriage.

To The Baby:

I’ve always loved you best because while endings are generally sad, you are such a joy.

You readily accepted the milk-stained bibs, the lower bunk, the cracked baseball bat, the baby book that had nothing written in it except a recipe for graham-cracker pie crust that someone had jammed between the pages. You are the one I held onto so tightly. You are the link with my past, a reason for tomorrow.

You darken my hair, quicken my steps, square my shoulders, restore my vision, and give me a sense of humor that security, maturity, and durability can’t provide. When your hairline takes on the shape of Lake Erie and your own children tower over you, you will still be my baby.

. . . from mother . . .

~ Author Unknown ~