top of page

Birth of a Young Mother

At your first bleating cry I became what I am, A Mother. Delivered to my child, exhausted, bloody and terrified. The power in your tiny form forever sabotaged my life to a collision of duty and desire. The umbilical cord binding me an unwilling participant in the universal myth the power behind, the hidden force, the most potent influence.

I pitched my tent then with all the other enthused and wide-eyed mothers And carved a course…hoping I might happen on the definitive manual and avoid the deadly spray...of unworthy, irresponsible, bad careless mother and yet survive myself My life, evolving in overwhelming modes of sacrifice, while trying to actualize.

Two decades of my life and more, I ducked and dived the jibes of judgmental family, critical society, a daughter’s expectations…. A long lonely haul... I’ve served my time; I did my best to qualify as mother. Before you judge me destroy the myth.


Carmel Rooney is a retired university lecturer, (TUdublin) living in Dublin, Ireland. She originally trained and worked as an actress. She writes drama, some poetry and the odd article. Published in Riposte, a monthly poetry broadsheet in Dublin.

Articles published in U Magazine and Ireland’s Own and a tiny play, ‘Super Heroes', in online Journal Pendemic.

Recent Posts

See All


We met I giggled You were serious I felt your heart even then Our souls said hello again Here we go A lifetime would pass 33 years to be exact And still And still As you lay there in your last hours I

Good-bye Stress

Me: Dear Stress, thank you for being such a big part of my life for most of my life. You have helped me to know in my body what feels right and wrong, what feels safe or scary, what I want to do or no


But who wouldn’t want to look that good in mismatched bra and panties? She’s not looking in the mirror she holds. Lying on loose sheets, little rhetorical mouth a little open. She’s waiting for her hu


bottom of page