I need to ramble for a little bit.
My little man turned 7 weeks old this past Wednesday. It’s been a fast seven weeks, but at the same time I feel like I’ve known him forever.
My transition to motherhood hasn’t been any of what I expected… but then I try to think of what I expected, and I’m not really sure. It’s like I can’t remember not being a mother. I love being a mother. The extent to which I have been blessed nearly knocks me over every single day. It literally takes my breath away.
When he was born, I was scared because I was afraid we weren’t bonding “enough.” I was having a lot of trouble breastfeeding, I was exhausted, felt TERRIBLE physically, and it truly seemed that everyone was holding my baby except me. I know they were trying to help so I could rest, but it was tough on me emotionally.
Side note. When I came home from the hospital… I was a GIGANTIC EMOTIONAL DISASTER for two weeks. No one ever told me that this could happen. I thought you either had postpartum depression or you didn’t. I did not realize there was a normal in-between that involved tons of crying. It was like someone turned on a faucet and didn’t turn it off. Then suddenly, after about two weeks, I felt like myself again. It was like someone ran in and turned the faucet off.
Anyway, I finally spoke up and said I didn’t feel like I was bonding with my baby. I was so, so scared he would not know that I was his mother.
Today, I knelt down while he was in his rock and play and we locked eyes. I could suddenly see his personality – this little person with a personality – as I smiled at him and for the first time he smiled back at me and laughed. And I knew.
This boy knows that I am his mother.
I am a mother. I am brought to tears by that statement. I am so blessed. It is my dream and although I will mess up often on this journey, I am just so thankful to be here.
Thank you, Lord.