I Thought I'd Feel Instant Love

When Bonding With Baby Takes Time

I was prepared for the contractions. I'd read every article about tearing, breathing through pain, and what to pack in my hospital bag. I had the labor playlist queued up. But what I wasn't prepared for—what no one had said out loud—was what it would feel like when they finally placed my daughter on my chest and I… felt nothing. Not revulsion. Not disgust. Just a strange kind of numbness, like watching someone else's life from the outside. I stared at her, this tiny human I had carried for nine months, and waited for the lightning bolt of love to strike. But the thunder never came.

Instead, a quiet panic began to stir. Wasn't this supposed to be the moment? The one where everything clicks into place? I'd seen the photos, the tearful videos, the captions that read "It was love at first sight." I had expected to dissolve into tears, to feel like a mother the instant I saw her. But there I was, holding her gingerly, as if she belonged to someone else. And beneath the exhaustion and adrenaline, I felt something deeper creeping in: guilt. Was something wrong with me?

The Quiet Truth No One Talks About

Here's what I wish someone had whispered to me before I gave birth: not all mothers feel that instant rush of love. And that's not just okay—it's incredibly common. But in a world flooded with picture-perfect newborn moments and social media love declarations, admitting that truth can feel like confessing a terrible secret.

Too many of us carry that weight in silence. We smile through the newborn visits and nod when people say, "Isn't this the best feeling in the world?" while wondering, quietly, Why don't I feel that yet? It's not that we don't love our babies. It's that love—real, grounded, enduring love—sometimes needs space to take root.

Why Bonding May Not Be Instant

Let's name it: the postpartum period is a full-body, full-soul upheaval. Between physical trauma, hormonal surges, and the sheer disorientation of bringing a human into the world, it's no wonder some of us don't immediately feel connected. Here are just a few reasons bonding might not happen right away:

• A difficult or traumatic birth experience that left you emotionally raw or dissociated
• Medical complications, for you or baby, that disrupted early contact
• Postpartum depression or anxiety that fogs your emotional availability
• Breastfeeding challenges, physical pain, or NICU separations
• The weight of expectations crashing against your lived experience

Sometimes, your mind is still in survival mode. Sometimes, you're grieving who you were before. Sometimes, you're just. So. Tired. These are human reactions—not reflections of your capacity to love.

Love That Grows Quietly

We are taught that maternal love arrives like a tidal wave. But for many of us, it begins as a quiet ripple. A glance in the dark while feeding. The way their fingers twitch in sleep. The hush of skin-to-skin, weeks after the hospital. These moments may not feel cinematic, but they are sacred. Love doesn't always show up with fireworks—it often grows like ivy, slowly, stubbornly, wrapping around your heart in its own time.

One night, about three weeks in, I found myself crying—not out of fear, but because I realized I missed her when she slept. That was the first flicker. The first tiny bloom in soil I thought had dried up. It was small, but it was real. And it was mine.

If You're Still Waiting for the Feeling…

To the mom scrolling in the middle of the night, wondering if something is wrong with her: I see you. You're not detached. You're not cold. You're adjusting. And adjusting takes time. You are meeting someone for the first time—a someone who will change your life in uncountable ways. That kind of connection doesn't always appear in an instant. It builds.

Here are a few practices that gently supported my bonding process:

1. Stay skin-close.
   Even if it's not day one, holding your baby against your skin—especially during moments of calm—helps regulate both of your nervous systems. Let your body do what words can't.
2. Speak your truth.
   Whether to a therapist, a partner, a fellow mom, or a journal, saying "I'm not feeling connected yet" out loud is an act of courage. Shame only grows in silence.
3. Make eye contact during care moments.
   Bath time. Diaper changes. Feeding. These aren't chores—they're opportunities for quiet attunement. Even brief, loving glances build the bond.
4. Lower the bar.
   You don't need to "feel like a mom" 24/7. You are one. Showing up, feeding, soothing, trying—that is love in motion.
5. Get help for mental health.
   If you suspect postpartum depression or anxiety is at play, seek care without guilt. You deserve wellness—not just for baby, but for you.

You Are Not the Only One

The more I speak with other mothers, the clearer it becomes: this experience is more common than anyone admits. Some mothers bond in minutes. Others in months. Both are normal. Both are valid. And both lead to love that's deep, fierce, and unshakable.

You are not behind.
You are not failing.
You are not broken.

You are bonding—in your own time, in your own way. And that bond, when it takes hold, will be no less beautiful for the time it took to grow.