I sit there and smile as I created life, my little girl in my arms

Arms.

They are open for an embrace so tender and warm.

Warm.

My stomach is warm with butterflies that want to escape.

Escape.

The old person I used to be, they say things will change.

Change.

Everything happens so fast I can barely mourn my old self.

Self.

My reflection was there, but I didn’t recognize who I was.

Was.

I was happy, but now I have racing thoughts.

Thoughts.

They are horrible visions of what could happen to her.

Her.

Not my daughter, but myself. I am scared.

Scared.

To be happy again while my place is a mess.

Mess.

I’m so scatter brained but she keeps me alive.

Alive.

I feel alive and new, but they don’t warn you.

You.

I love you, little baby.