We’ve all seen the Facebook posts from new mothers talking about how in love they instantly were after they had their babies. When I finally held her in my arms, I felt a deep sense of detachment. Where were the unicorns and rainbows shooting from her butt?
They don’t tell you that it doesn’t always spontaneously sweep over you. It was almost as if we swung by the bus stop and picked up this tiny stranger.
The first time I felt like a mother was when she was crying so hard she lost her breath, and when I swept her up in my arms, she immediately collapsed and cooed, silence. I finally felt that connection you read about when I realized that she NEEDED me – something I haven’t ever felt in my life. Someone genuinely depends on my existence for their happiness … That is motherhood.
And so I sit here with a soundly sleeping baby girl in the bassinet to the right of me. There are moments where I stare at her, wondering if she knows that I struggle with the worthiness and attachment of motherhood. In troubling moments of no-sleep or days when everything hurts from bending over a bathtub the wrong way, I usually find her smiling.
All she really knows is that I’m the only sense of home she has ever felt. Whether inside my belly or in my arms, I am her comfort, I am her safe place … and all I really know is that she is mine.