KIDZ BEATS

But to him, it was just natural.
As if my body had not been cut open.
As if pain had not torn through me.
As if fear had not sat beside me on that table.
He spoke like nothing special had happened.
Like every woman walked away from childbirth unchanged.
Like being opened, stitched, and left to heal
was something small.
He didn’t see the scars on my body.
He didn’t see the weakness behind my smile.
He didn’t see how hard it was just to stand,
to sit,
to hold my baby close.
He expected strength
when my body was still healing.
Silence
when my heart was breaking.
He forgot that I had carried a life,
that my body had stretched and suffered,
that I had faced pain and fear
just to bring a child into this world.
Giving birth was called “natural.”
But the way I was treated afterward
was not.
Still…
I rose.
I healed slowly.
I learned my strength in quiet moments.
Every scar became proof,
not of weakness,
but of love.
And even when I was not understood,
my child’s breath in my arms
reminded me—
I was powerful.
I was enough.
I was a mother. 🤍

While the world sleeps,
I sit in the corner of the bed,
feeding my baby in the quiet of the night.

My back hurts.
My eyes are heavy.
My body feels so tired.

The room is silent,
everyone else is resting,
but a mother’s night is just another shift.

No one sees these hours.
The long nights.
The aching body.
The sleep that never feels enough.
Still… I hold my baby close,
rocking gently in the dark,
whispering soft comforts only a mother knows.

Because even when my body is exhausted,
my arms never say no.

My heart never asks for a break.

This is what motherhood looks like
in the middle of the night…
quiet, unseen, and full of love. 🌙🤍