Aug. 16, 2023
During my pregnancy, I found myself captivated by the enchanting visions of childbirth, postpartum bonding, and motherhood. I imagined a serene birth experience, cozying up on the couch with my drowsy newborn, and that magical moment of seeing my baby for the very first time.
Conversations with experienced mothers in my prenatal yoga class and heartwarming birth story podcasts solidified the belief that meeting my baby would be one of the most profound and love-filled moments of my life. I meticulously crafted a mental script for how the big day would unfold, leaving no space for unexpected twists.
However, as many know, life rarely adheres to our plans. My experience resembled a scene from 500 Days of Summer, where expectations clash with reality in a rather disappointing manner. Instead of being engulfed in the euphoria of motherhood, my reality was more akin to thoughts of, “What have we done? I can’t handle this. I need support.” The guilt was overwhelming. How could it be that this beautiful little being had entered the world just moments ago, and I was already consumed with anxiety about my ability to care for her?
As my baby grew into a colicky, demanding infant, my feelings of fear and frustration only intensified. I provided her with the utmost care, breastfeeding, holding, and ensuring her safety, yet the deep, unconditional love I had anticipated as a mother simply didn’t materialize.
Then, one evening, as I lay next to her in bed, helping her drift off to sleep, everything changed. Gazing into her eyes as she gently caressed my face, I finally felt it after seven long months—I fell in love with my baby, and it was even more profound than I had ever imagined.
Admitting these feelings publicly is challenging. I know that some may read this and judge me as a bad mother for not appreciating the gift of motherhood right away. Yet, I believe sharing my experience is crucial because it highlights the reality that many women face. The idealized portrayal of motherhood can leave some feeling isolated and guilty when their experiences don’t match those fairy-tale expectations.
I want others to recognize that they are not alone, and it’s okay if they don’t feel an instant bond with their newborn. After months of navigating the complexities of motherhood, my emotions and hormones finally balanced, allowing love to fill my heart. Although it was a long and lonely road, my daughter and I emerged stronger together.
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In conclusion, the journey of postpartum bonding can be complex and varies from person to person. The love that blossoms may not always be immediate, but it can grow over time, leading to a profound connection that is worth the wait.