Mothers...

Exhausted and relieved. Though we were both bloody and battered, we had survived.

Maryn said:

The original 'natural high.'

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I'll second this. And add, the BEST high ever.

Ridiculously happy. Cheshire cat smile happy. Considering what we'd gone through, and how long my first labor was, oddly I felt more awake and alert than I've ever been in my whole life. I had so much energy I felt like I could bench press a truck.

I didn't feel immediate love for my baby though. Like some people talk about. It was more like an intense curiousity.

More along the lines of--"Finally, I get to meet you. Now tell me who the hell you are and what you're all about" LOL. I was excited to discover and get to know him, figuring that the love would come as I got to know him better.

But this is all just very, very first reactions.

Relief mostly. Some people feel deep bonding, something transcendent. But with my first, I felt mostly curiosity and was just really, really, REALLY glad that she (I didn't know she was a she until those first moments) was outside rather than in.

With my second, oddly, I felt an overwhelming sympathy. I didn't want her to be cold or afraid or confused. It occurred to me that being born must be awful, although my second had a much gentler birth-day than my first.

First, I was beyond relieved. After a birth that felt like the Third World War and lasted twenty hours,I was effing ELATED that it was over.

Second,extremely thankful that he had all his fingers and toes and was healthy. I couldn't stop looking at him and hovering over him every two minutes.

Relief, and surprise. She was HUGE, a couple of pounds larger than they thought she was going to be. I was very happy until she kicked me in the gut. That hurt like the dickens and then I wanted my husband to take her. ha ha. She also looked like Chairman Mao, which was funny to me. I always think newborns look hilarious though. Most look like potatohead and yoda.

Maryn said:

The original 'natural high.' Elation. Joy, even.

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What Maryn said.

A fierce, overwhelming rush of love and an urge to protect him beyond anything I've felt before or since.

With my first, a natural home birth, I first felt a deep sense of peace. Even though my baby had the cord firmly around his neck multiple times and was born blue and floppy, I knew he was there, he was fine, all was well. My midwife did a quick little move that took the cord off his neck, put him on my chest, and began giving him a brisk back massage while her assistant readied the oxygen...but the oxygen wasn't needed. He took his first breath and it was AMAZING. You could see him turning from blue to bright pink, starting with the lungs and moving outwards. He began to breath, to wiggle, and even to nurse right away. I cried tears of joy. Even though it had been a long labor, an all-nighter, I was full of energy and was immediately up and about. A friend came to the house and I opened the door to welcome him, baby in arms, and jokingly said, "Look what I did!"

Of course, I learned later that with so much oxytocin in my body, carrying the baby around like that was kind of a mistake. Took the chiropractor a while to straighten me out.

With my second-born, we started out at home and everything was going great. I was about seven centimeters dialated when I said, "Wow, if the rest of it goes like this, this is going to be the easiest birth ever!" and got up to walk around, hoping to speed the labor. As soon as I was on my feet, my water burst, and the baby fell into an undeliverable position. Try what we may, the baby just couldn't come out naturally. So it was to the hospital with me, for an emergency C-section. The midwives came along and helped immensely, acting as my advocate, filling out paperwork, providing doctors with my full medical history, not to mention lessening my pain where possible.

The epidural failed and I had to be gassed.

When I woke up, I was in a white room with two women standing over me. I said, "Where's my baby? I want my baby," and was told she was "over there" with a vague gesture. I had to get very persistent in demanding my child; apparently, my white blood cell count had been high when I arrived, and they didn't want me getting the baby sick. I told them that I was going to be with my baby, and what she needed was to be nursed by her mother; even if I was sick, she could get antibodies in the milk. They said "wait for the doctor's approval" but when I asked how long before that would happen, they said, "about four hours," to which I said "No. I'm not waiting. You give me my baby, NOW."

They wheeled her up next to me, and she looked so tiny and fragile and scared. I took her in my arms (despite one nurse's protests) and promised her, then and there, that I was going to make this whole mess up to her. Her first hour of life had been entirely without her mother's touch; from the look of it, she'd been handled impersonally and left alone in a hard, glass sided bassinet. I didn't cry tears of joy, but I did cry. I didn't feel like anyone had acted wrongly, but my baby girl had endured a rough trip and afterward, it was a full hour before she was shown any love in this world. I felt sorrow, and worry, and while I felt an intense need to make things better for her, and show her love, and keep her safe, I didn't feel the same immediate bond I had with my son.

Definitely bitter-sweet.

Well...

With my daughter, I remember I cried and just couldn't believe that she came from me (I was 22). The tears were definitely joy. That sense of relief when the doctor pulled her out, I can somewhat have others understand. Imagine holding your bladder for half an hour or even an hour. When you finally get to go to the bathroom and you just feel that wave of "Oh, thank God."? That's the relief.

With my son, I had a harder time. I started to hemmorrhaging with him and felt so cold. But I was so busy watching my baby, that I didn't pay attention to what the doctor was doing. When they asked if I wanted to hold him, I had my husband hold him, "I have the next 18 years to hold him. I need to catch my breath." Asthma sucks during labor.

Ditto everyone else's "relief". Right after she was delivered I just felt this "Ahhhhhh" sort of elation.

My daughter had a minor complication, so I couldn't hold her, so I kept asking "are you done yet? When can I hold her", but it was more a curiosity than an intense bond. In fact, it took me quite awhile to feel that bond with her...several months.

With my son, I felt more protective. He had no complications so I was able to hold him right away, but he started making a mess all over me (to put it delicately) so they took him away to be cleaned up, weighed, measured etc.. I kept telling my husband "Get over there and hold his hand...he's crying, go talk to him". It was immediate joy with him. I wanted to hold him and look at him and make him feel loved right away.

For some reason, the first time none of the protective, "he's mine!!" feeling was there yet for me like it was the second time. I was much more of a Mama Bear with my son. I guess it just hadn't occured to me the first time around to be protective.

When I got to hold my son for the first time he was dead. But I finally understood what it meant to be a mother.
I felt grief. And love. I had been afraid to hold him, but there was nothing to fear. He was perfect.

First time: absolute relief that labout was over I was too exhausted to even think about bonding. I had a quick peek, passed him on to my hubby, the nurses tried to do the breast feeding thingy, but as soon as they left the room, I whipped him off, curled up and went to sleep ...six hours later... I was ecstatic, elated, in awe, every other cliche you hear I felt hyper and a bit manic LOL. It was a bit like *what I imagine * the high/buzz of drugs - suddenly the entire world felt different.

second and third time: labours were less than an hour, and I had the elation/adrenalin straight up.

I looked into his eyes and saw myself. I felt that I was finally home.

My mother said, she felt kind of indifferent towards me in the beginning. It took her a while to bond (about a week) with me and it was a slow process.
Today we are super close, in case this matters.

Relieved he was okay (my first was a really difficult birth and pregnancy), and that the labor was over.

Then scared because he was a boy (I grew up surrounded by my sisters and dolls and pretty dresses).

Then curious. Ten fingers? Ten toes? When will he poop?

As for bonding.... Not right away. I felt like I was his babysitter and his mom was going to come pick him up at some point.

.

Kinda shocked and overwhelmed--she came really fast. Thrilled, of course, and an immediate awareness that my life was changed forever--a sense of responsibility. I cried and promised her we'd take good care of her.

Ha ha, she's 21 now and doesn't need anyone to take care of her!

I was so happy to meet the little person who kicked me and made me eat so much. lol I cried when he finally came out because the doctors had to use forceps and a vacuum to get him out. Then he started coughing. After a bit, the doctors put him in my chest and he looked into my eyes. I didn't think I could love anyone so much, but I did and now almost 9 years later, I still do.

A total adrenaline-rush high of pure joy. And the relief that everyone else mentioned. Labour is such a potentially dangerous prospect, you just want the child to survive it. After you hear the cry and count the fingers and toes, it's like crawling into a warm bath. Aaahhhh.

For the first one I had the luxury of an epidural so I was in complete awe with him and I couldn't stop staring, I could remember not wanting to put him down and instantly I was so protective over him (He's still a mamma's boy to this day).

For the second I was just completely traumatized with the natural childbirth and the amount of stiches I had to get afterward that my husband did more bonding with him at first then I did but once I actually was able to bond with him I became more emotional than I did with the first for some reason.

And finally after the birth of my third child and only daughter I could remember feeling relieved again after the fact because the memory of natural childbirth again became all too familiar and I couldn't get it overwith fast enough. She was quick thankfully. At the hospital only 21 minutes and total labour only one and a half hours. But despite it all I can remember feeling excitment for having a daughter finally, still in denial feeling like it was all a dream but I was proud.

Very different reactions for all three very different situations but well worth all of it.

Like everything in my life, every action, thought, and event had happened for this moment--and that my purpose in life was finally answered.

I physically felt a shift in my universe as my newborn son was now the center of ALL.

For me, I was always just relieved. (I don't like being pregnant much, lol) After that, though, I got very curious. My boys all looked very much alike, and I used to joke that I wasn't a mama, I was a Xerox machine, lol. I was very interested in meeting the little passenger I'd been carrying for so long, and I always got a kick out of how tiny and soft they are. Nothing better than new-baby smell and feel. They're built for cuddling, and they spent more time in my arms than in the hospital bassinets. It's a great way to get to know them, and besides, I always felt weird if they were away from me, when I'd been carrying them for so long.

Honestly, I was just relieved.

My labour was very short (40 mins) and I had no painkillers at all, but it wasn't nearly as bad as people say it is. But I had a hard time during my pregnancy so when she came out I was just so relieved that she was okay, that she was breathing and healthy that I didn't have room to feel anything else.

To be honest that feeling of love and elation really didn't kick in for nearly a week. And when I tell people that they seem to think I'm defective and they look at me strangely. But that's the truth.

shaldna said:

.... But I had a hard time during my pregnancy so when she came out I was just so relieved that she was okay, that she was breathing and healthy that I didn't have room to feel anything else.

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Same here.

To be honest that feeling of love and elation really didn't kick in for nearly a week. And when I tell people that they seem to think I'm defective and they look at me strangely. But that's the truth.

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*Raises hand* Same here. With my first born, I felt more like I was his babysitter than his mommy. But oh, when that love and elation kicked in.... It was hard to tear me away.