The Moment I Advise New Moms to Hold On

home insemination Kit

You know, I’ve always thought I shouldn’t admit this, but I didn’t experience that instant love for my baby right when I laid eyes on him.

Labor was intense, and my body felt completely wrecked. When he finally arrived—slightly blue from the cord being wrapped around his neck three times and screaming his little lungs out—I was overwhelmed. I felt scared, exhausted (like I could sleep for a week), excited, and completely transformed. But love? That wasn’t there yet. I didn’t hear any celestial music, and the emotional wave that everyone promised just didn’t hit me. I wasn’t even sure if I should hold him; I was trembling and weak.

A few days later, we were home, and I found myself sitting next to his infant carrier in the backseat of our car, freaking out about everyday traffic because suddenly, I had this tiny human to keep safe. Gradually, I started to heal. I fumbled with swaddling him while we sat in a comfy recliner my dad had gifted me when I was too big to climb into bed during my ninth month. Every day, I cried alongside this little being as we navigated through sleepless nights and breastfeeding struggles, while he flipped his days and nights upside down and refused to sleep anywhere but in our arms.

Those first weeks were among the toughest of my life, filled with uncertainty and sleepless nights with a colicky baby. I was still scared and bone-tired, but maybe I loved him? I was too bleary-eyed to think straight. I just went through the motions: change, feed, sleep, repeat.

But then, it happened. Now, when I meet new moms with wild hair and sunken eyes, I tell them to hang in there because that moment is coming. One day, as I sat with my knees propped up and laid him against my legs, we locked eyes, and I saw the corners of his mouth twitch. I leaned in, hoping to catch it again, and there it was—a real smile, completely intentional. In that moment, I felt like I was witnessing a miracle for the first time.

When that hesitant smile transformed into a beaming grin, and he looked at me as if I were the miracle, I knew I had fallen in love. His entire face lit up, and so did my heart. It felt like a floodgate opened, and I was overwhelmed with emotion. And yes, I cried again.

Motherhood is a rollercoaster, and it comes with quite a bit of crying. The best part? Those magical moments keep happening. Every time my kids flash me a smile—whether it’s my firstborn, now almost 13, or my little one, who just turned 3—my heart skips a beat, and it’s a miracle every single time. Parenting is still challenging; it’s frightening, exhausting, and exhilarating, and it continues to change me. But when my children smile back at me, it feels like healing. The bruises fade, the dents smooth out, and what was broken starts to mend.

Nothing about giving birth or becoming a mom was what I had imagined, and that hasn’t changed. No matter how long I’ve been at it, I never feel like I’ve truly mastered parenting. But one thing I do know: if I can just hold on until the next smile, everything will be alright. That’s where the love resides, and that’s the miracle. If you’re considering the journey of motherhood, this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination can be a great help. And for more insights, check out this other blog post here. Oh, and if you want to learn about the at-home insemination kit, check out this authority on the topic!

In summary, the journey of motherhood can be overwhelming and doesn’t always start with an instant bond. However, moments of connection, like those first smiles, can transform your experience and bring about deep love. Hang in there, new moms—those smiles are worth the wait!