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“A Young Mother’s Sacrament” by Emily Harris Adams

A Young Mother’s Sacrament

It is all I can do to just sit

And rock,

Holding the baby,

Feeling the fatigue wash

Over my brain.

I feel muddled and tired.

My arms ache

And my chest aches.

The baby in my arms is a warm,

Drowsy weight.

My husband sits next to me,

Also half-asleep.

He bends at the waist,

The whole heaviness of his head

Balanced on the pressure

Of the bridge of his nose, pressed into his thumbs.

His hands clasped, elbows on knees, as if in prayer.

The meeting is all about just staying awake

Long enough to renew covenants made

Weekly since baptism.

I’m here, I think

As I chew

And as I drink.

I promise to always remember.

Whether waking or sleeping

Or the somewhere in between.

This piece was published in 2023 as part of the 12th Annual Mormon Lit Blitz by the Mormon Lit Lab. Sign up for our newsletter for future updates.

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