When love for your baby needs time to grow

Written by Jessica

Becoming a mother had always been my biggest dream. After hospital treatments because of my PCOS, I was finally pregnant with a baby girl. The first half of my pregnancy was tough. I was tired, nauseous, and often felt down, complaints I had dealt with before. After 20 weeks it got better. But because of a placenta previa I barely felt her movement and never felt a connection with the baby inside me. That scared me. What if I wouldn’t feel anything for her at all? I told my fears to friends who were already mothers. They all said, “Just wait, the moment she’s placed on your chest, you’ll feel an explosion of love.”

But that explosion never came. After a difficult birth, our little girl Luna was born on January 26. Suddenly she was lying on my chest. I looked at her, but felt nothing. No love at first sight, no happiness, no unconditional bond. Only shock from what had just happened. Where was that feeling my friends had described?

My partner was head over heels right away and her biggest fan. I felt jealous because I didn’t. That first night at home, I panicked: “What have I gotten myself into? I can’t give her the love she deserves.” I felt guilty, but I knew bottling it up wouldn’t help. So through tears, I told my partner right away. The next morning, I shared my feelings with the maternity nurse. She responded with understanding: “So many mothers go through this, they just don’t dare to say it.”

That feeling stayed with me for weeks. When I held her or looked at her, I felt nothing. I couldn’t believe she was my daughter. Sometimes it hit me extra hard and I cried in my partner’s arms. He was a huge support. I knew I had to keep talking about it, otherwise it would get worse. I started reading and discovered how many mothers go through the same thing, but feel ashamed and stay silent. When people asked if I was on cloud nine, I was honest: “No. It’s overwhelming and I don’t feel a bond yet, and that makes me sad.” It didn’t matter who asked, I wanted to break the silence. That honesty sometimes led to other moms sharing that they felt the same.

Talking about it and reading other experiences helped me so much. After four weeks, things began to change. Now I feel unconditional love and can proudly say with the biggest smile: “She is my world.”

Written by Anne

Being pregnant with your first child is a cocktail of uncertainty, joy, nervous excitement, and endless unsolicited advice. I had heard countless stories of mothers who were in love with their unborn child, a feeling that only grew stronger when the baby was born.

I always found that strange, how can you be in love with someone you’ve never met? The whole pregnancy felt abstract to me, so I didn’t expect much.

The last weekend before my maternity leave, we went on a family trip. On the way home, things took a different turn. I was picked up by an ambulance at a gas station after heavy bleeding and taken to the nearest hospital.

Soon after, the contractions started and at 2:45 a.m. our son Dexter was born at 36 weeks. Strangely enough, he felt familiar, as if I had always known him. My heart instantly grew four sizes and I thought back to when I had listened, skeptical, to stories of instant love.

Yes, love at first sight does exist.

You think you can’t possibly love your child more than you already do, but love grows with your child. And so did our wish for a second baby. This pregnancy felt both the same and completely different. With experience comes a new perspective.

This time, our daughter Ariel made us wait. At 40 weeks, after a slow start to labor, she was born at home.

This time, no overwhelming rush of love hit me. Instead, I felt mostly relief that pregnancy and birth were over. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her deeply from the start, but it didn’t feel like meeting someone I had always known.

Weeks passed, and doubt crept in. Why did this feel so different from my first? Then came a moment when she looked at me, everything went quiet, and I thought: “I know you.”

Written by Kaitlyn

When my son was born, I expected to be swept away by love. Everyone had told me: “The moment you see him, you’ll just know.” But when he was placed on my chest, I mostly felt confused. I looked at him – his tiny face, his little hands – but it felt like I was looking at someone else’s baby. As if he wasn’t mine yet.

In those first weeks, I felt strange. Of course, I cared for him: I fed him, changed him, comforted him. But deep down, something was missing. That magical bond everyone talks about just wasn’t there. It made me insecure. Was something wrong with me as a mother?

I didn’t dare tell anyone. Outwardly, I smiled and said everything was fine. Inside, I carried guilt. I didn’t feel that instant motherly instinct. Still, I kept caring for him and staying close. Even if it felt like “going through the motions” instead of connecting.

Weeks later, something shifted. He was lying asleep on my chest, breathing calmly. I looked at him and suddenly a warm wave swept through me. Tears came to my eyes. This was it. The moment I had been waiting for. It felt like my heart gently opened.

From then on, the love only grew. Not just responsibility, but real love. I fell in love with him: his smile, his eyes, the way he clung to my shirt, the safety he felt with me. For the first time, I truly felt like his mama.

It took time, and that’s okay. Love doesn’t always come in an instant. That’s something we need to talk about more. There’s nothing wrong with you if it takes longer. Now, when I look at him, I can’t believe I ever doubted. He is my heart, my home, my baby.