Yea, so, definitely not immune to the influence of the hormones. It's mostly in the evenings when Darrell comes home from work, and I'm sure it's exacerbated by both sleep deprivation and by anxiety about the looming nighttime, but I'll just cry from feeling so overwhelmed. Tonight I laid down with him for a little bit to cry while he held me and while my mom took care of the baby in the other room. I told him I was ashamed to admit it but that I already missed how the way it was when it was just the two of us. I'm not sorry we have the baby - I wanted a baby, a family - and I'm very happy with my decision, and I know things will get better. But when I'm feeling overwhelmed with the whole experience, it's hard not to long for the simpler days of just him and me.
I also worry I'm not bonding well enough with my baby. Before I had him, everyone told me I would instantly fall in love with my baby the moment I saw him. I feel horrible for saying as much, but that wasn't true. The first time I saw my baby, I was mainly exhausted and just stunned that he'd actually come out of me (and that I'd been able to push him out of me!) Then, I was more concerned with the birth complications I was experiencing, and I didn't see him until six hours later. I think he's absolutely beautiful - I couldn't ask for a more adorable kid - but I didn't feel this magic wave of love just wash over me like a Hollywood movie. I wanted to hold him and nourish him, and I want him to be happy, but I worry I was already an inadequate mother because I don't necessarily feel this head-over-heels infatuation with him.
My mother and husband tell me to relax and give it time and that our bond will grow, and I trust and believe them, but the last thing you want to feel when you're already stretched thin is even more inadequacy. I told my husband, "I'm giving so much of myself to him physically that I feel like there's almost nothing left of me emotionally." All I can do is trust that nature is taking a little more time with me and that the empathy and compassion I'm typically known for among friends will blossom in its own time. Oddly, the scary couch incident almost reassured me that I care more than I consciously notice. Maybe I'm just overanalyzing... as usual.
[Note: This entry was written 6/17/10 and backdated.]
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