Hope's Story: Sometimes Love Takes a While

Edited by: Gloria Miles
Shared anonymously by the mother. Permission received to share. *Names edited.*

Hope is my second daughter.  My pregnancy with her was great.  I could eat and drink and keep it down.  After a pregnancy with hyperemesis up until the eighth month, it was a welcome relief.

I was at home with my mother when I went into labor.  I told her and she immediately freaked out because her van was broken and we had no working vehicle at her house.  Since the hospital was only half a mile away, I decided we could just walk.  I think that's why the birth went so quickly.  

We walked block after block very slowly since we had to stop during my contractions.  I got half way through a cross walk at a very busy intersection and had one.  The light turned green and traffic had to wait for me to finish the contraction and then waddle to the other side.  Fun.

When we reached the hospital and I was admitted, my mom said she'd be right back, she was going to call my ex-boyfriend, Mark, the father of my first and second.  "Don't push yet!" she cried out.

I was on the bed, waiting for the nurses to get organized and start an IV line.  "Sure," I told her.

She left.

My water burst and like my first, the pushing contractions came violently.  The nurses abandoned their IV equipment and ran about me frantically.  I'm sure they were following some sort of protocol and paging the doctor and all of that, but from my vantage point, they were running around like crazed chickens.  

I cried out for an epidural, but the baby was born instead.  

I held her, pissed off.  I had walked half a mile to get here, just so I could birth the baby, essentially by myself.  I could have probably stayed home and been more comfortable.  Start to finish this was a 35-minute labor.  

I waited for an instant bond to come with this birth, but it didn't.  Like my first, there was a disconnect.  I held her.  My baby.  She didn't feel like my baby.  I didn't feel like she had came from me.  I guess I was still processing or something.  I don't know why this happens to me, but I wish it wouldn't. 

My mom and ex arrived about thirty minutes after the baby was born.  "I thought you said you wouldn't push!" my mom accused. 

I shrugged and she laughed.  She looked at her new grandbaby and cooed at her.  She held her a little while and showed Mark.  Marianna had been a copy of him.  I thought that Hope looked like my sister.  He'd tell me later that she didn't look like his baby.  It was a bit of a fight, but when we got the paternity result, he found out that she was his, through and through.  

She's much bigger than a newborn now and I love her like crazy, but it definitely took a little time to get that "motherly" love, rather than just this feeling of obligation to care for her because I knew I had to.  I really wish I knew why I can't be like other moms who just get that instant "love at first sight" feeling.  My sister did tell me that it's more common than I think, but I don't know.  At least I'm lucky, though.  I love them with all my heart and they drive me crazy, so at least the feeling of disconnect doesn't last.