The Poetry Nest: Custom Poems By and For Pregnant People and New parents
The following is a personal essay from Ars Poetica’s lead poet based in Toronto, Vironika Wilde. On the cusp of giving birth to her first child, Vironika invites you into community with her as her greatest creation prepares to meet the world. Meet Vironika and get a poem for yourself or as a gift for an expectant or new mother in your life, in her new live poetry commission series, The Poetry Nest. You can also contribute to Vironika’s online registry here, participating in a collective poetic baby shower with us for the months of October and November, and we’ll send you a custom poem as a thank you!
The Poetry Nest
by Vironika Wilde
Throughout my life, I have carried many identities, all intersecting (and sometimes crashing together) within me.
Math wiz / poet
Indigenous / immigrant.
Pacifist / activist.
Feminist / romantic.
Almost ten years ago, I became a nomad.
Now, I am becoming a mother.
How did I go from spreading my wings, recklessly soaring all over the world, to building a safe, secure nest for myself and my quickly growing 37-week pregnant belly? You might suspect that the answer is love. Of course, there is love. But in my story, there is another lead character, and that is poetry.
Poetry as Survival
The first poem I remember composing was in the public bathroom of the Donetsk dormitory where my parents and I lived for a few years. Out loud, I recited some rhyming lyrics about the weather that day. I can't remember if it was raining or sunny, but I do remember the feeling of being taken on a ride by something big—some invisible and powerful force I could touch only by weaving tapestries of my words.
As a teenager and young adult, I didn't think of becoming a professional poet. To be honest, I didn't realize that was an option. I didn’t even think of becoming a professional writer. I excelled in English class, despite being an immigrant for whom English was a second language. I often received praise for my writing. But mostly, I wrote in the confines of my room inside journals no one ever saw. I wrote poetry to cope with the loneliness of being an only child of two parents struggling to make ends meet in a new country. I wrote poetry about my often-wavering mental health and my struggles with body image. I wrote not to become a writer but to survive the long, lonely nights.
Even after I became a professional writer, I didn't think of myself as one. My work focused on helping people overcome trauma and face childhood hurts. Readers would comment on the poetry inside my words. I would smile. But deep down, I felt I barely deserved the title of writer, let alone "poet." I was just doing what I’d always done: churning my pains and pleasures into sentences.
And then poetry set me free.
Poetry as Medicine
In 2018, I found myself in Mancora, Peru. I had sold my things in 2014 and spent those years traveling with a person I called my partner but secretly felt was my prison guard. Amid the many red flags I ignored throughout this suffocating journey, the most glaring was the absence of poetry in my private journals. Then, one particularly hot August day, poetry visited me and pushed unsaid words into my fingertips.
The truth in those words filled me with unspeakable anxiety. Was I really admitting to myself that I wasn't happy? Did I want to leave so badly? Had I really been wanting to leave since the very beginning? Was I as trapped as I felt?
The poems were honest. They were sad. They were also raging. They were full of anger that seethed deeper and brighter than I ever showed to my partner. Love is forgiveness, right? Everyone gets angry at each other. But the anger in these poems was different. The ugliness still felt beautiful. It felt full of nuance, dancing with sadness, hope, and broken expectations.
After I wrote the truth, I couldn’t deny it. Those poems helped me escape that relationship and break the silence I had imposed on my most authentic voice by refusing to say what I was afraid to say.
Poetry had come to my rescue, and it was here to stay.
Poetry as a Career
A year after the breakup, I awakened. The poetry, once it started flowing, wouldn't stop. I filled up manuscript-sized documents. I discovered spoken word. I began to take up space on various stages, speaking my truth. Those privy to my performances could feel something real and raw erupting. Those who read my poetry on the page could sense a deep honesty and see themselves in the glimmers I was sharing of my inner world. Finally, I had transformed into a full-time poet.
My first year as a full-time poet was also my first year as a solo nomad. What a life it was sharing poems all over the world and meeting artists on different continents. It was exciting. It was also incredibly lonely. Unfortunately, when 2020 hit, the loneliness only deepened. In the middle of a quick visa run from Australia to New Zealand, COVID hit. A three week housesit turned into a six month lockdown with the owner of the house! It was distressing but also gave me time to reflect, think, and, most importantly, write poetry. At the end of 2020, I released my first poetry book, Love & Gaslight, and my debut spoken word album, Too Much For You.
In those lonely lockdown days, I was happy to connect with my New Zealand host. I also kept in touch with some friends from back home in Toronto. One of those friends I had met in 2019 before boarding a plane for Hawaii. He was a beatbox champion with a big smile and a kind heart. I felt immediately connected to him, but after escaping my last relationship, I was afraid to imagine ever falling in love again. I swore off men. I considered him one of my best friends. During lockdown, we shared jokes, stories, and dreams.
After I finally returned to Toronto, I visited him after not seeing him for one year. I meant to stay for an evening. One evening turned into one day. One day turned to five days. Five days turned to months. A friend turned to an unexpected soul mate.
Poetry in Lockdown
I couldn’t even think about travelling again. I was locked down not only by COVID, but also by love.
I began building a home with him. There I was, nesting in Toronto after years of absence, buying scented candles and pillowcases. Being a nomad was exciting, but there was always something missing. As a person who’s an immigrant as well as half-indigenous to a place I’ve never visited, I’ve often struggled with belonging. Having a history of physical and sexual trauma really doesn’t help either. I have spent so long running away, and now I’ve been trying to stay. Nesting has been a slow, difficult process. For too long, the only places I felt truly safe were my partner’s arms and my poetry.
As I expanded my safety net to include our bed, our Pikachu and Totoro pillows, our bedroom, and even one of the bedrooms at my mom’s house where we sometimes visit, I started to imagine holding down a bigger nest, a more solid one: a place where we could grow more than just memories.
Poetry as a Pregnancy Support
After a year of planning and a few months of trying, our two-line love poem is getting an extra stanza. I'm currently 37 weeks pregnant and due to deliver on November 1st.
What no one tells you about pregnancy is how it brings all your traumas to the surface. From day 1, I've been facing not only worry and uncertainty about motherhood but also trying to heal all the grief and pain my body has endured. How do some expectant mothers do it without a supportive partner or an artistic practice like poetry? These are my safe spaces, and without having a safe space, how can I be a safe space for a child?
I’ve learned, from speaking to other women, that safe spaces for pregnant people can take different forms. Some find themselves in support groups or communities with other expectant mothers. Some swear by the expertise and emotional value of a doula. Some praise their mothers, mothers-in-law, and other family members for teaching, guiding, and supporting them. This past May, I got to experience a new dimension of safety in motherhood when I became a safe space for other women exploring motherhood, pregnancy, and everything in-between.
Poetry for Motherhood
Through Ars Poetica, I had the pleasure of doing a Mother's Day typewriter event at Fendi. I wrote poems from children to their mothers, mothers to their children, and men to the mothers of their children. I helped one woman write an ode to her late mother and another write a message to her unborn child. Each poem was a gift, not only to the recipients but also to me. Participating so deeply in someone's emotional process is always a lesson, a privilege, and an honour I do not take lightly.
I emerged from that day feeling connected and creative. I also emerged from that day with aching feet and a fussy belly. Like my live performance gigs, live typewriter gigs have become less practical as my body changes and demands more rest, comfort, and flexibility.
Going through this process got me thinking about other pregnant women. How do we cope with our emotions when they're this palpable? How do we account for our changing bodies while cherishing them at the same time? How do we show up for ourselves when we may not have a solid support system to show up for us? And how can I share some of what I have to give while respecting my new limitations?
After musing with Ars Poetica owner, LA Markuson, about the stages and hardships of parenthood, we've come up with something truly special to share.
Poetry as a Nest
I am thrilled to announce Ars Poetica's newest bundle of joy: The Poetry Nest.
This on-demand event will allow attendees to receive a custom poem written by a pregnant or parent poet. Whether you're in the grips of pregnancy, postpartum, or full-on parenthood, you can allow yourself to unwind alongside fellow parents who understand the depth of your situation.
The Poetry Nest welcomes all those on the pregnancy and parenthood journey and those who want to support us in our safe havens, not too far from our little ones and their needs.
You’re welcome to fly by and rest your weary feathers with us, bookable online or IRL. Drop in with a poetry prompt or request, and let the power of poetry come to the rescue. You can pay what you wish electronically for poems, and I can even mail you the typewritten physical copies. All earnings from this project will go toward building and softening the nest for our new baby.
If you want a more private poetry consultation experience, please contact me through the form below.
I’d be honored to work with you on a special commission, facilitate an online writing group for mothers (expectant or otherwise) or work on a partnership or project with you. And the Ars Poetica poets across Canada, the US, Mexico and Europe make a touching and delightful addition to baby showers, birth celebrations, and other life milestone events.