Humbling
Humbling.
That is the word I would use to describe my motherhood journey.
Humbling,
when I realized I did want children.
Humbling,
when we miscarried + a part of my soul that I didn’t know was there was taken.
Humbling,
when I was given the opportunity to create + grow a life.
Humbling,
to witness my power in enduring days of labour.
Humbling,
to be entrusted with an innocent tiny human to care for.
Humbling,
to constantly find ourselves at breastfeeding ‘dead ends’ to only pave new roads and miraculously be going strong a year later.
Humbling,
to see myself crumble underneath grief,
illness, uncertainty, and pain,
but not break.
Humbling,
to find out all the things I did not know or understand
And still have to learn.
Humbling,
to find strength and wisdom in new found places.
Humbling,
to watch my heart burst with love,
while my body ached with pain,
my mind fogged with fear
and all while wanting a week of sleep.
Humbling,
to be your mother,
my sweet Sacha.
May your smile never fade,
may your wonder never cease,
may you always know that for us you define unconditional love.
Happy birthday.
This is one.
the spoken word
I conceive these pieces with the beat of my heart,
then birth them with the fire of my voice.
i am ayla
born in the east, raised in the west
daughter of two academics, both artists
masters in human rights, committed to social justice
love affair with travel, art, and food
speaks four languages, laughs in all