I wouldn’t say love at first sight. Because. Well. He looked like a blue gorilla. And my initial response aloud was “I gave birth to THAT”. And then my husband had to leave bc I was being seen up and he was going with our child. And then I landed. In a room. Alone. With this wrinkled looking old man child that was approximately 50 minutes old. Panicked out of my mind. Because I didn’t know what to do with it.

Terror sums up the end of a very long day spent laboring, amid a tornado watch, drug free. Right up until it wasn’t. And then it was allllll the drugs and an emergency c-section. Which concluded with me bringing forth. Methuselah.

And then the feeding. For upwards of a year. It was a second job. And it was hard. And I resented my hubs and and my child. Until I transitioned him to whole milk. And I felt like someone instead of merely a food source.

Currently. Nine years later. I love this kid. With my entire heart.

These stories are personal. And they are yours. It’s okay not to feel whole or yourself. It’s okay to cry over random things including split milk because it’s liquid gold. It’s okay to give birth however you needed to for the safety of you and your baby. It’s okay to feed your baby how you see fit. Nothing makes you any less.