It may not be a common sentiment to share, but I didn’t experience an instant bond with my newborn when I first laid eyes on her. My labor was intense and exhausting. When she arrived, slightly discolored from having the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, I felt a whirlwind of emotions—fear, fatigue, excitement, and transformation. Yet, love was not one of them. I didn’t hear any heavenly choirs, nor did I feel the overwhelming emotional surge many describe. I hesitated to hold her, my body trembling from the effort it took to bring her into the world.
A few days later, as we drove home, I found myself sitting next to her infant carrier in the backseat, consumed with anxiety over the responsibility of keeping this fragile life safe. Gradually, I began to recover. I awkwardly swaddled her while we lounged in a comfy recliner my father had gifted me during my last trimester. Each day was a learning curve, filled with tears from both of us as we navigated the complexities of our new life together. My body was adjusting, learning to nurse, while she struggled with a reversed day-night cycle and only wanted to sleep in my arms.
The initial weeks were among the most challenging of my life, filled with uncertainty and nights spent soothing a fussy, colicky baby. I was still frightened, still overwhelmingly tired, and still navigating my new reality. While I thought I might love her, the haze of exhaustion clouded my clarity. I was merely going through the motions: change, feed, sleep, and repeat.
Then, a transformative moment arrived. Now, when I meet new mothers—whose eyes reflect sleepless nights and whose hair is a chaotic mess—I urge them to hold on, for joy is on the horizon. One day, as I propped my knees up and laid her back against my legs, our eyes met, and I noticed the corners of her mouth twitching. I straightened up, eager to see if it would happen again, and it did. She smiled. A genuine smile. It felt miraculous, as if I were witnessing something extraordinary for the first time.
In that moment, as her tentative smile blossomed into a full grin and she gazed at me as if I were the true wonder, I realized I had fallen in love. Her entire face lit up, and in that instant, my heart expanded. Emotions surged within me, causing tears to flow anew. Motherhood, unlike what one might expect, is filled with unexpected tears.
The beauty of this experience is that it continues to unfold. Every time my children smile at me—whether it’s my eldest, now nearly 13, or my youngest, just turned 3—my heart races with joy, and it feels like a miracle each time. While parenting remains challenging, filled with fear and fatigue, those smiles provide healing. The wear and tear of motherhood begins to mend, and what feels broken starts to restore itself.
Nothing about labor or motherhood unfolded as I had anticipated, and that reality persists. No matter how long I engage in this role, I never feel I have fully mastered parenthood. However, one truth remains clear: if I can endure until the next smile, I know everything will be alright. That’s where love resides. That’s the miracle.
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In summary, the journey of motherhood may not align with expectations, but the bond that develops over time can be profound and rewarding.