Ìyè'mi:My Mother.

The one who birthed me,

Carried me for nine consecutive months.

For the days of sleepless nights,

Days when the stomach hurt so much she couldn't find comfort.

Days of mood swings, when all food tasted sour,

Days of unwavering pain, tiredness and exhaustion,

Days of pregnancy sickness, going for antenatal.

Then came the day of labor,

When contractions felt like heavy stones,

When the cervix was slow to dilate, the pain through the whole process.

The pain from the suturing of tears sustained during labor.

Then came a bouncing baby boy,

And a warm smile from her face, saying "Welcome to the world, my dear son."

The stress of breastfeeding,

The noise and cry of a baby that cried every single night.

Her sacrifice to nurture the baby,

Six, seven months on her lap, then time to crawl, time to start growing teeth.

The tiredness of washing clothes, of feeding, of checking temperature, of giving necessary medications.

And in the blink of an eye, 1 year gone,

Then she starts teaching you how to walk,

Calling your name to come, teaching you how to speak, from momma to daddy.

That was the first language and the first name you knew how to pronounce before anything else.

Ìyè'mi, the nursing and caring is never a problem to her, all she prays for is for me to grow and become a better version of myself.

This is me celebrating every mother out there,

Thank you for raising us,

Thank you for all the support,

Thank you for those sleepless nights,

Thank you for the pain you endured,

Thank you for giving us the chance to see this beautiful world,

Thank you for the teachings.

We owe it all to you.

Perhaps you may be wondering, what about daddy? A day is assigned to celebrate that resilient hero, who never gives up, who provides and raises us in his best capacity.

@FP