Big Love

Some women who have a baby and feel an overwhelming love for their child before it's even out of the womb. Some fall so deeply in love at first sight of their newborn that they are overcome. I was not one of these women.

Sure, while I was pregnant with Fiona, I was very committed to her, and I loved her in a way. But she was such a mystery at the time. A future child about which I knew nothing save that she was growing in me. And when she was born, I cried with joy and my feelings for her deepened. But still, what I felt was more a mix of relief that she had been born safely at last and a sense of wonder that she had actually come out of me. I remember being surprised somehow when M touched her head as I held her in the hospital and said, "I love her." I knew I was happy to have her, and I would be crushed to ever lose her. But she and I still had a road to travel together before the real love fireworks would begin.

I think it took a couple of weeks before I felt the kind of love that other mothers experience instantly upon laying eyes upon their children; and even then, it was a gradual thing. I don't know the exact day or moment it happened. But at some point I started saying "I love you" and I haven't been able to stop. Sometimes I say it to her over and over again. I hug her and kiss her as if my life depended on it. This is seriously big love.

I wonder if it makes me sound like a bad mother to admit I didn't feel that all-consuming, bone-crushing love for my baby when she was first born. I can promise that I'm making up for it now. And I know now that unless you've had a child - whether biologically or otherwise - it's impossible to know this love. I had no idea what I was in for when M and I decided to have a baby. I understand now why my mother - who is NOT a kid person by any stretch (although she does have a soft spot for Fiona) - could have been so loving and giving and kind to me. I understand why my father still talks about how much he regrets not having picked up and moved his life from North Dakota to Montana when my mother moved us there after their divorce. I understand how mothers lift cars with their bare hands in order to save their babies' lives. This love makes you stronger.

At the same time, though, this love can make you utterly weak. I am completely at Fiona's mercy. There is nothing I wouldn't give her. I am putty in her tiny little hands, and she melts my heart with her cries as much as with her smiles. I can't believe I used to not want this. I know I had my reasons, and they were no doubt valid. But I've never been happier about changing my mind.