I cried because I realized that I was starting to love my daughter.
There have been multiple occasions over the past couple weeks that I have felt love for my daughter. The first time was August 18th (yes the day before my infamous post).
It took me 111 days to feel a moment's worth of love for my daughter. 111 of the worst days of my life. I talked about this too, but you cannot know how long that is until you've never loved the child in your home. And I know, I know, that there are mamas out there who have gone far past 103 days and still aren't feelin' the love and I just want to say that I am praying for you earnestly. If you ever want an understanding, nonjudgmental person to talk to or email then please contact me. I won't even call your agency!
111 days to FEEL the first glimmer of hope.She was sleeping in her crib. She cried out in her sleep, dreaming I'm sure, of loss I cannot imagine. I went into her room and laid hand on her back to comfort her. I wanted to comfort. I didn't comfort her because I had to, because it was the right thing to do, but because I wanted to. I wanted to take her hurt away, I wanted my touch to bring her comfort. At that moment I felt love for her and I wanted her to feel it from me.
At that time I would not have said that I loved her or that I was growing to love her, but at that moment I loved her and after 103 days that was enough for me. Since then moments are piling up.
(Can we stop for a goofy grin break?)
Moments two and three happened when we were sitting in a rocking chair sharing time together...little songs, books, snuggling, her playing with my hair and
After moment three happened I was excited. I knew it was a good sign, but I would not have said that I was starting to love my daughter. I would have said that we were having good moments together, that our work was starting to pay off, that we had a long way to go, but we were on our way together.
I didn't tell anyone about the first two moments. I didn't want to jinx it. I was scared. Some things are too fragile to speak. After the third moment I told my husband.
The fourth moment was when she was sitting at the table and she looked up at me unprompted and she made a silly sweet face before she could think about doing anything else. Before I could think about feeling anyway else my heart beat out a little love.
After the fourth moment I told my therapist.
After 126 days I'm telling my blog that I am starting to love my daughter.
I am starting to love my daughter. Finally. It is starting to feel more natural to interact with her, to kiss her, to have her here, to enjoy her. It is not like it is with the boys yet. It's just not. But there have been five moments when it was. She still pushes my buttons, she still makes me madder than any human being I have ever yet encountered and in the shortest amount of time, but we've had five moments.
We've had five moments out of 181,440 minutes. Moments we're not even talking minutes, but I'll take it, happily and with thanksgiving.