The somehow

Rising, with your eyes not awake quickly enough.⠀
Moving to the cries, with your feet not yet operating quietly enough.⠀
Consoling, with your voice not yet controlled enough. ⠀
Cradling, with your body not yet strong enough. ⠀
Night after night.⠀
Month after month.⠀
Somehow this is your reality you were never truly prepared for.⠀

You constantly wait for your body to catch up but it never really does. It’s like you are constantly chasing your own tail which cannot be caught. It’s crippling but somehow it’s natural. ⠀

Natural in that somehow you continue rising, moving, consoling, cradling and holding on despite the conditions. Conditions which beforehand would have been woefully inadequate and strike-worthy.⠀

Nature takes it’s course and you survive the early hours. ⠀
Somehow.⠀
Each day you get through. ⠀
Somehow. ⠀
And each night you continue.⠀
Somehow.⠀

You do it time and time again because you know that one day everything else will catch up but you will have no one to rise to, move to, console or hold. ⠀
They are worth every struggle. ⠀
They are the somehow. ⠀