Bonding with Baby - 0-3 Months

I look back now at pictures of me lying on the sofa with Sofia, 5 weeks old, clinging face-down to my chest, looking so chuffed with myself. And I feel nostalgia for the magic of those early days. That little life that took over our universe. Those times were wonderful – the first time we sat in the garden together with Sofia in her pram; the first time we went to the park as a family; the joy of waking up to Sofia’s smile every morning and the satisfaction of going to bed at night feeling we’d done the most rewarding job in the world. (That’s quite something for someone who has spent a decade green with envy at people in productive work.) And they were hard.

Whenever I was feeling physically low and hormonal I would get an acute sense of yearning to feel like more of a proper mum to Sofia. A sense of a chasm between us and a feeling of impotence. It was due to the extreme dependence I had on others to enable me to care for her. Nobody else could fathom what this was all about when I expressed it. They would say “But you are with Sofia for most of the day; you are breastfeeding her.” And they were right. But the breastfeeding felt like such a bind at first, and I would have to steel myself against the pain of it. It wasn’t a fulfilling experience at first.

Whenever I was supposed to be resting I just lay there listening to her and to other people looking after her for me and felt cut off. I ached inside because I couldn’t go and hold her. The worse thing was when people would come and take her from my arms when she was crying. Because they thought I couldn’t cope and needed a break but didn’t know how to ask. They were well-intentioned. Half the time they were right: I did need a break. But it made me feel absolutely enraged and anguished. I tried to establish a rule that people should assume I was OK unless I asked for help, even if it appeared otherwise. I tried to be the one who decided when Sofia needed to feed, when she needed to sleep, and when she should have a kick on her playmat, even though I couldn’t do all those tasks myself. I also had to accept that I couldn’t be in complete control. M had just as big a stake in our baby as I did so his feelings and opinions had to carry equal weight. Other relatives too, had to be allowed to have their say, since they were giving so much of themselves to help me.

I couldn’t explain this feeling of distance with Sofia rationally. The only thing that helped it was spending time with her on my own. It gave me so much confidence and joy to be able to cope by myself for short periods of time. What also helped was just holding her, on the sofa because I couldn’t carry her around, as much as possible. Sometimes sleeping side by side when she had a nap. Choosing her clothes even if someone else dressed her. And doing a bit of “baby massage” was wonderful. I didn’t go to a class. I just followed instructions on a free Pampers CD I got in my Bounty Pack from the hospital. I have no idea if I was doing it right, but it felt very right. Sofia responded with wide eyes and big smiles. I looked forward to my time alone with her when I would get out the almond oil, put on the CD and spend some “quality time” in this way.