August 14, 2023
In my years as a nurse, I’ve witnessed countless births, and one thing stands out: no two experiences are ever the same, even for the same mom. I’ve seen everything from straightforward vaginal deliveries to lightning-fast labors and those marathon 36-hour efforts that ultimately result in a C-section due to “failure to progress.” Some moms scream their heads off with every contraction, while others calmly rub their feet on the bed like it’s just another Tuesday.
The same applies to the bond between a mother and her newborn. When I was pregnant with my second child, I was well aware that not all moms experience an instant attachment. I understood that it might take time, and that was completely normal. However, I never imagined I’d be in that very situation myself.
My first labor was a breezy six hours, and as soon as my daughter was born, she let out a strong cry and was placed skin-to-skin on my chest by my wonderful colleagues. I felt an immediate connection as we locked eyes, and she began to seek out the breast. Sure, the labor wasn’t a walk in the park, but that moment was pure magic.
Fast forward to my pregnancy with my son. It was a different story. I was constantly exhausted from long shifts at work and then chasing after my toddler. There was hardly any time to ponder the little one growing inside me. I worried about whether I could love another child as deeply as my first, what kind of person he would become, and countless other things. I stressed about making it to the hospital on time during a cold February in rural Canada, where road closures were a common occurrence. Worry, worry, worry.
When labor hit, it was intense and painful. My doctor later explained that my body hadn’t had enough time to prepare for delivery. My son was a full pound heavier than my daughter, leading to complications. I remember feeling exhausted, hungry, and even a bit irked. I knew I should be joyous about my son’s arrival, but when they placed him on my chest, I felt a chill instead of warmth. I was overwhelmed and unsure how to love another child.
The first six months with my son were a whirlwind of challenges. I was burned out trying to keep my spirited preschooler entertained while caring for a newborn who wasn’t the easy baby I had hoped for. The guilt weighed heavily on me. I felt like I was missing his cues and that it was my fault he was fussy. I even pushed my husband away, reluctant to admit I might be struggling with postpartum depression. It felt like I was supposed to have everything under control, especially as a labor and delivery nurse.
Admitting that my experience with my son wasn’t what I had envisioned was tough. But I’ve come to realize that love can grow slowly over time. Our bond might not have been instant, but it has evolved into something deep and meaningful. It’s like a slow dance where we’ve both learned the steps together. Now, as my son approaches 1 ½, my heart swells with joy when he calls me “Mom” and gives me slobbery kisses. We chase each other around the kitchen, and it’s these moments that I now cherish deeply.
All the pain, guilt, and confusion in that first year have shaped our relationship for the better. I love my son with every fiber of my being, and I always have. It just took a little longer for me to recognize it.
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Summary:
Bonding with your newborn can take time, and that’s perfectly normal. Each labor and delivery experience is unique, just like the journey to form a connection with your child. For some, that bond may not be immediate, as seen in the author’s struggle to connect with her son compared to her daughter. Through challenges and feelings of guilt, she discovers that love can grow slowly over time, leading to a profound relationship with her son.