Motherhood in Drips /

Motherhood is pretending you see the wee little cricket taking a bath in a dripping, clogged
gutter; yes, he’s sly, yes, he’s handsome, yes, I wish I was young too and could see him there tap
dancing but it’s enough that you see and tell me about him. 

Motherhood is pretending you don’t see the drips from angry button noses out of courtesy to the
other mothers dropping their children off because it’s too complicated, you know, and a nose is a
nose, and haven’t we been through enough, you hear.

Motherhood is infusions running lines into the boy, fear dripping from your armpits in
yesterday’s dress, just-a-cold that suddenly isn’t, guilt leaking into the hospital cafeteria food,
farina like the stuff Grampo used to eat, full circle.

Motherhood is diluting your life all at once, plunging into isolation and never quite feeling mixed
right ever after, and not just diluting but overwhelming it like a splash of perfume that sends you
to heaven with burgeoning memory.

Motherhood is watching the leaky faucet drip into the bathwater and cackling that it’s just the
thing to add to Child Soup while your daughter screams with glee and fear, thankful that just for
tonight the children don’t cry.

Motherhood is titration, a slow dawning that you have brought something living to the world and
thus you have brought something that must die in the end of it all. 

The noses,
The feelings
It drips


Dr. Bunny McFadden (she/they) is a Chicana mother who has gained recognition for her unique style of storytelling. Her work has been praised for its gritty imagery, spirited characters, and thought-provoking themes. Bunny’s writing often tinkers with the complexities of familial relationships, the struggles of motherhood, and the joy of life. In addition to her writing, Bunny is also a passionate advocate for justice and education. Their website is