I don’t immediately have a bond or attachment to my baby. I am intermittently excited and nervous. In fact sometimes I feel weird calling it ‘my’ baby. It sounds weird just yet. I feel somehow like I am not deserving of this wonderful being, like I am pretending to be someone else, a poser. Like I am not worthy of being a mother yet.
I am aware of my detachment and fear, and think about it often. Wondering if it some sign or glimpse into the future of the parent I will become. I worry about becoming a mother. Will I be able to stop being so selfish, so self absorbed…so me? Will my husband still have time for my needy nature when the baby comes, or will his emotional bank account be drained and empty? Will I be able to love unconditionally? Will I be able to let go of my own insecurity and fear of vulnerability to express my feelings and emotions to my child?
While I worry about these things, things that will in time become know to me. My belly is growing slowly, my love for my baby is slowing growing, and my attachment to this being inside of me slowly, cautiously moves forward. Still fearful that s/he could change its mind about me, bring all of my doubts to fruition, and cease to exist.
Perhaps I am afraid to love and lose. Ahh, a realization alas. For that I am grateful.