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I Couldn’t Feel Love For My Son On The Day He Was Born. But Then, Something Extraordinary Happened

Yes! I love my son but I have earned this feeling. I couldn't feel this love on the day he was born, because I was consumed by my own pain & discomfort.

Yes! I love my son but I have earned this feeling. I couldn’t feel this love on the day he was born, because I was consumed by my own pain & discomfort.

It was not easy for me to become a mother. My bosom was oozing milk after the very minute I delivered him but ‘motherly feelings’ didn’t touch me. I was frustrated by the very fact that people were smiling around me, and no-one had a thought that I was in pain.

I didn’t like feeding him. The first night with him was not less than a nightmare for me. After every two hours, he used to cry and I had to rock him in pain. The women and men of my family expected me to mother him like an expert mom. According to the people around me, the sleepless nights, the hungry stomach, painful stitches, never-ending menstruation, tasteless food, and hard chest was less painful in comparison to my crying child.

I needed someone to understand my pain. I needed someone who understood that by just giving birth I don’t become a mother. That someone was my MOM! My mom first hugged me and then Aarav. She cared for my sleep and rocked him many nights.

She quenched my thirst for love and attention. She fed me with food of my choice, and my sister filled my days and night with laughter, childhood talk & gossip. With all this TLC, I was slowly healing inside. They were not judgemental and didn’t advise me to do this or do that. My mom just modeled out how to become one.

One afternoon, I was reading a book and Aarav was sleeping beside me. He was one month old. He twisted and turned and gave a little cry. I bent towards him and stroked my nose on his cheeks. I didn’t know when I cuddled him and he slept again. My stitches were healed. My stomach was full. My pain was replaced with bubbles of love and excitement.

That day I opened his small fist and touched his small curled fingers. I smelled milk on his cheeks and the baby powder around his neck. His oily scalp with little hair and broad hairy forehead made me realise “Oh he needs massage with besan”. My mom who was standing near the door realized that I no more needed her…

From that day to this day – each day I just observe him growing, and fall in love with him all over again. Yes! I love my son and I have earned this feeling.

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