By Dr. Swati Rajpoot

No one will ever understand the love I have for you. After all, you’re the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside. When a child is born, a mother is also born giving life to numerous feelings alien to the woman before but what if your own emotions betray you just at the right time……


As young first time parents, we were eagerly awaiting our first child. The nine months wait was proving to be agonizing. I just couldn’t wait to see what was constantly moving, kicking inside me and after six hours of excruciating pain, our son was born. I couldn’t wait to see him, to hold him in my arms. We finally met and he was laid besides me on the bed. He was so tiny, frail, pale looked so delicate and fragile and didn’t even open his eyes to see me. Something was amiss. I could not feel any bond or feelings for him. I couldn’t believe myself. This couldn’t be happening, not to me. It was not what I had imagined. Everyone around me was ecstatic. My husband was exultant. He was completely smitten by his son. The grandparents were rejoicing, were jubilant showering the new member with love and gifts. And here I was, in the middle of all the festivities, secretly feeling guilty of not sharing the same emotions for him, for my own flesh and blood. I was devastated. The days were tiring beyond belief and the nights were restless devoid of any sleep. A tiny infant weighing just over 3 kg had played havoc in my life. Even when I tried really hard to look at him lovingly, he wouldn’t respond. He slept most of the time and cried for the rest because either he would be hungry or dirty. I couldn’t talk about my dilemma to anyone. What would they think? How can a mother not feel love for her child? I was miserable. I was woken up one day by very flail but joyous voices, the sun wasn’t up yet and there was dim light in the room. I looked over and saw the baby playing and kicking my tummy with his tiny feet with joy. I remembered the familiar kicks. He then looked at me and smiled and for the first time after he was born, I recognized him. He was the same boy I used to talk to even while he was still in my womb. I would try to hold him when he would kick and an impression of a foot would form on my heavily pregnant tummy. My heart filled with joy and my eyes with tears. He was a part of me, my body, and my soul and yes I did love him. I had always loved him even before he was born. After nine months and a little over two weeks, in a very private moment a MOTHER WAS FINALLY BORN.