What It Does

Starting with the hair, the mother can expect extremes.
First, there is too much--so much that ponytails
can make you cry by the end of the day,
This is followed by handfuls in the drain, on the floor, in her brush.
If her kids happen to be terrified of the blowdryer,
She quickly adjusts to just not bothering.
She has better things to do.

At her base her feet swell and ache and likely lengthen.
Her weight picks an extreme--too....something, to be sure. 

In her middle is a gaping hole that still remembers its miraculous accomplishment.

Facial features are case to case.
Her nose could grow longer or wider,
Her eyes might sink in or sag with bags--
Sleep deprivation is no beauty treatment.
And just when she thinks she might start getting real sleep, another
Tooth sprouts, someone is sick. Night terrors terrorize bloodshot eyes.

She learns within the first week to forget about jewelry;
Baby hands are remarkably strong, and toddlers are covetous and demanding.
The neck she used to dab with perfume
Is odorless if she's lucky...she becomes accustomed
to the scents of breast milk and baby wipes.

Skin is the largest organ; it of all does not forget what a mother has been through.
Lines and splotches trace the stomach, buttocks and thighs,
Reminding all of the room it made for growth.
And the breasts. Once they have swelled with sustenance for another life,
The nipples are stretched to grotesque directions, no longer symbols of sex
But limp and lifeless lumps of tissue waiting to be ignored.

A woman's blood supply increases by thirty percent during pregnancy.
Bulging veins are painful; watching others wince when they spot them is equally so.
Spider veins creep through calves and thighs.
When it becomes time to don them, however, her focus
Is on her child's survival in the water, the contents of the swim bag,
And where exactly they all can change.