Journalist Seeking Bonding Anecdotes

My story isn't really warm and fuzzy. My oldest son is about to turn 19, and he was born after a pretty uneventful delivery, no drugs, and a bit more than two hours of pushing. Just as he was delivered, the doctor brought him up and started to move to put the baby on my abdomen and I just wanted no parts of it. I didn't yell or say no, I just turned my head away and kept my hands at my side. I think the doctor realized I did not want to hold my baby immediately, so sort of in mid motion, he reversed and gave the baby to the nurse. Our son was weighed, measured, cleaned and wrapped up right next to me, and I watched, but I wasn't gushing or cooing or anything like that. My husband held him before I did, and the look on my husband's face was precious. I remember thinking, "Wow! You feel like that right away?" We had been expecting a girl, but had a son. (Ultrasounds were not so detailed 20 years ago!) And my husband was beaming and was nearly speechless. The doctor asked, "What's his name?" and my husband blurted out, "Charles Patrick IV". Now, to this day, I hate, hate, hate that name! But the look on my husband's face was unlike anything I had ever seen. I couldn't bring myself to disagree with the name. (But, later I did insist that we call our son Patrick rather than add him to the pile of Chucks, Charlies and Chas in the family.)
Well, later when we were alone with our son, I held him and looked at him, nursed him and I certainly knew and felt that he was my baby, and I loved him. But I was disappointed because I never had the moment of overpowering love at first sight that I had heard and read about. I did love him and I was very, very happy to have him. But I think I was expecting something unbelievable, maybe a lightning bolt of love.
And I was deeply embarrassed by that. I felt that there was something wrong with me, especially as my friends talked about that big moment of new love, and all the parenting books talked about it... Bond! Hold your baby immediately! Nurse immediately! It's unbelievable!
Well, that didn't happen to me. I didn't feel depressed or even blue. I was very happy to have my beautiful little boy, and I loved him. I just did not want to hold him immediately and I did not feel a big rush of emotion at all.
In those days, Dr. Berry Brazelton had a show on t.v. and I watched it all the time. One day he did a program about bonding, and in that program he talked about studies he had done years and years before in places we'd call "primitive". I can't remember the specific cultures he mentioned, but he talked about how first-time mothers often did not hold their children immediately. It was the practice to take first born children a short distance from the mother and allow other people in the family and community to hold the child. He said that often the mothers actually turned their backs away from the baby and sometimes fell immediately to sleep. There was no immediate holding or nursing by the new mother. He said, without fail, within an hour or two, the mother would ask for her child, and then at her pace, which could take several weeks, she would then bond with her child. And during all this time, she had a lot of help to care for her and her baby.
I was amazed when I heard this! That's exactly what I had felt like when by child was born! I just wanted to turn away for a time and sleep, rest and recover. Yet, everyone was telling me that I HAD to feel that rush, that it was normal to just be overpowered by emotion, to want to reach out and hold my child, to nurse him and gaze at him. I had a much more matter-of-fact feeling toward my child. It was more like, "I'm a mom now. I will take care of you."
So, I never held my baby immediately, and it was 2 hours before I nursed him. It in no way has damaged our bond. Patrick and I have always been close. He's 19 and we talk together and joke and go out to eat together. I've never gone through any of the teenage rebellion with him that so many other parents have to live through. He's always very respectful of me and every other human being. He's kind, gentle and loving. No one would ever guess that I "rejected" him when he was born.
My point in telling this story is that bonding has a full range of normal. When I finally discovered that the way I felt was not only normal, but also the norm in various other cultures, I began talking about it. I discovered that many other first-time moms felt the same way that I did. They felt obligated to have that big wow moment with angels singing in the background. They held their babies and nursed and actually pretended to feel that love. And indeed, many mothers do experience that overpowering feeling. But it's also normal to have less dramatic moments, or to even outright reject a child, especially a first-born child, for a time. When you write your story, I'd ask that you do some research and write a balanced story. For years and years most parenting literature has talked about how important it is to have skin-to-skin contact, to nurse the child, etc., just as one other poster has talked about. I don't think we need another story that tells us that Americans give birth the "wrong" way. The fact of the matter is, the idea that bonding MUST happen immediately can also be wrong for some mothers. I did not want to hold my son in the first few moments that he was born. I didn't want to touch him at all. I went through a lot of anxiety about that until I saw that television show. I thought I was an awful mother. I finally confessed to my grandmother, who was in her 80's at the time. In the 1930's my grandmother gave birth to four children at home with a midwife and my grandfather in attendance. She said she felt exactly the same way when her first child was born. She was a immigrant and was attended by the immigrant community and followed the customs of the "old country" when giving birth. It turns out that, just as the Dr. Brazelton reported, my grandmother did not hold her first-born child immediately. She simply was allowed to rest and recover, and when she asked for her child, the baby was brought to her.
This works both ways. If we take a child away from a mother immediately when she wants the child, that's not right. But it's also not right to force a baby upon a mother just because everyone else thinks it should be done. Bonding occurs immediately or over time. The bond between parent and child goes on forever, goes through peaks and troughs through all their stages of development, and that's completely normal. There's no one right way to bond with a child. In fact, many adoptive and foster parents never have the opportunity to bond with a child at birth, yet they can have very strong, loving, bonded relationships with their children. There's no magic formula that works for everyone.
Please don't write yet another story talking about those powerful moments of love at first sight. We've all heard those stories for years. The message that many moms hear is that we're SUPPOSED to feel that way. We're supposed to feel all sorts of ways, in fact. There are plenty of mothers who have stories like mine, and they don't talk about it. They are afraid to be judged negatively, so no one ever hears that it's normal not to want your newborn plopped on your stomach.
Oh! And I don't want to forget this ... A less dramatic moment of first-bonding is not necessarily equal to postpartum depression. It's just that the range of normal is wide. I also heard that. "If you didn't want to hold your child, you must have had postpartum depression." That's just not always the truth. Mothers are judged and criticized enough without having to feel badly about how they react the first seconds after their children are born.
And by the way... when my second child was born, I had that big dramatic moment of immediate, overwhelming love. (And *I* chose his name! NOT my husband :)

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I am not sure of bonding expieriences. But I thought I would share one of my blogs that absolutly shows a crazy mother's love for her child.

Okay here I am teethering on the brink of sanity. My six year old daughter Caylin had 2 fish the first one was a rather large goldfish named Daffodil which she only had in her poss esion about 2 months. The second fish was a little Betta fish named Dandelion in which she had for a little less then 2 years. She cared for both her fish but it was with Dandelion that she had developed a deep affection for. Last weekend my husband another one who basically drives me insane cleaned Dandelion's and Daffodil's fishbowl. about two days later I went into the dining room and to my surprise discovered Daffodil on her side in the fishbowl. At first glance it appeared that poor Daffodil had expired but upon some poking and a little prodding too Daffodil was still alive. Not for long. about 12 hours later daffodil was gone to fishy heaven. KK took this news rather well. She said it was Ok because it was Dandelion she really loved Dafodil was just Dandelion's friend not hers. She said that Dandelion was her BESTEST friend and no one understood her like Dandelion.(IT was a fish for christ's sake.) she proceeded to say that if it was Dandelion who had died she would be so sad that she would probably cry forever because her entire life it was always just her and Dandelion. (She is 6 years old mind you.)So I said to her well thank goodness then it wasn't Dandelion and after that explanation I was thanking god myself. Well, A few days later I again went into the dining room and what do you think I found then. You got it. Dandelion on her side in the fishbowl. It was apparent she was still alive because her little gills were still moving. Caylin was at school. I figured if in estimation to Daffodil's death little Dandelion had approxiamately 8 to 12 hours to live. It was ten a.m. KK got home from school at three. I was frantic. I tried switching the bowls, cleaning the water, feeding her., nothing worked,. So I decided to call a vet. I called Dr. Colin Jehlski( My sister in law brought her pets there.) And when the secretary answered the phone I desperately explained my dillema (pretty much the same way I explained it to you.)I heard a pause and then the woman curtly said to me "This is a fish we are talking about?'

"yes, a betta fish " I replied. She then responded "We Don't usually see fish here. We mostly deal with household pets."

So I begged the woman I told her that I had a six year old who would be completely heartbroken if something happened to this fish. Could she please just ask the doctor what to do. That if need be I would bring the fish down there and he could examine it personally." She laughed at me. "Is this a joke? some kind of a crank call? Who is this?"

I replied in the most serious voice I could muster " No Maam this is not a joke I am trying to save the life of my daughter's fish. Her name is Dandelion.( I was hoping by using the fishes name it would personify the fish. You know like they do on tv when kids are kidnapped to appeal to the kidnapper's. In the hope that she would grasp the seriousness of this matter.

I think she realized She realized then that I was desperate because she told me to hold on she will go talk to the doctor. Relieved I told her Thank You. She put me on hold. Ten minutes later she came back on.

Dr. Jehlski told me to tell you that he has some excellent advice for you. "Really?" I said very excitedly. " What is is it that I should do?" And that damn secretary said very matter of facterdly . " He told me to tell you to buy a new fish.:"

We are going tomorrow to buy a new fish. Her name will be Daisy.

R.I. P. Dandelion 5/18/06

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Hi C.,
Well, I don't have a story of how my daughter was born and loved her instantaneously; that didn't happen. But that's ok because rather than loving her just because she is my daughter, I learned to love for for the funny little person she is. My daughter is now 15 months old and she has always been the kind of kid that when other children were running to their mommies, she was on her own, probably running away because she loves her independence! So, needless to say, I've never really had a snuggly kid and at first I struggled with that. Then when she was about 1 year old, she woke up from her nap and she would not let me away from her. From 4pm until 8pm, all we did was snuggle together on the couch. I sang to her and she put her mouth up against my cheek to kiss me. This was probably the best day of my life. And I know it may sound silly to anyone else, but it was the day that I looked at her and realized that I loved her more than anything or anyone else in the world. And she loved me back.

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C.,
I sent this before, but was taken back to the "log in", so this might be a repeat.

My story:
I don't know what it is like to be pregnant, or to give birth, but I am definately the mother of my 7 month old son!
I am 41 years old and have been trying to concieve for years. My husband and I went through infertility diagnosis to find out that our only options were to try invitro or adopt.
Our thoughts were that if we tried invitro we had the possibility of spending a LOT of money and still be childless. Adoption seemed more hopeful, but we were hesitating, hoping I would still get pregnant naturally. Neither of us wanted to truly face the issue of not having "our own" children. I didn't want to admit that I would never know what it felt like to be pregnant, and I always wondered if adopted children ever REALLY felt like they were your own. How could that be possible?

Then one morning I got a call from my sister, who is a nurse at a local hospital. She told me that there was a woman in labor who wanted to find a home for the baby, and asked me if we wanted him or her! I said yes! My husband said yes!
We spoke to the birth mother, social worker, attorney, adoption agency......got everything in line to begin the adoption.
Meanwhile...a baby boy was born!
The next morning we had our home-study done, and had an appointment with our attorney. Before the appointment, the social worker called and told us to come see our baby.

OK, here's the "bonding" part....
On the way to the hospital I was sooooo nervous!! I am always nervous holding newborns. I kept thinking that all the nurses would be staring at us because we were to be the adoptive parents. I thought that I had to show them how extremely happy I was to have this chance to have a baby, even if I was soooo nervous....how was I to do it?? I was wondering if he would ever truly feel like my son, or if he would feel more like a nephew who I would raise....joyfully!

So, we were met at the front desk by the social worker, who took us to the nursery. There my sister and another nurse-friend (important part of this adoption - she was the first to hear of the labor)were waiting for us, all anxious to meet the baby. (My sister and the other nurse do not work in the nursery or delivery, so they had not seen him yet).
They took just the 5 of us into a private room (whew!)and wheeled him in. All I could do was stare down at him in disbelief. I kept thinking, "this is my child!" and that he was the most beautiful newborn I had ever seen!
The social worker told me to pick him up, which brought me out of my daze. This is the amazing part...
When I held him for the first time I actually felt like I had turned inside out, as if he had burst forth from the inside of my body....like I had just given birth to this baby!
Now I didn't feel the pain that the rest of you mothers have felt, but I felt a rawness inside, not a bad feeling, but the only way I can think to describe it is a rawness, or bareness of my insides. Then I felt this tremendous love which I had never felt before, love that I could wrap around him, and the feeling that I was now responsible for the life of this child. THAT was my bonding!

We brought him home that same evening, after our meeting with the attorney, and I stared at him for at least 48 hours.
There has never been a day since, that I did not feel like his "real" mother, and he my "real" child.

I am now feeling as if there is so much more than "flesh and blood". I feel as though I have always known this child, and the way he stares into my eyes, as if he has always known me.

God has truly blessed us, and our families, with this awesome child who brings us so much love and joy. We have named him Macrae, which is Scottish for "son of Grace", our gift from above.

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Hello C.... just thought I would add a little giggle to your day. I am a mother of 2 children they are both pretty much grown. But this story will always stick with my son for as long as he lives. My son at the age of 3-1/2 had this fascination with band aids. He was forever feeling the need to put them on every scrape, cut, red mark he might find on his or his sisters body. well one day he was being very quiet back the hallway, I yelled back to him "Jacob what are you into", as many mothers do, forgetting that their kids are not going to tell them exactly, what they are doing for fear they will be in trouble. Well to my surprise he came running out the hallway, just full of delight. He said mommy I’m just putting band aids on my booboos. I took one look at him and couldn’t help myself. I started to laugh; he had woman’s pads plastered all over himself. He said mommy look at these big band aids. This story has brought many giggle and laughs to our family, I think many stories as this one have helped our family bond. These little things we share as our children grow up to be wonderful young adults. so I thought I would share it with others.

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My story is about my daughter and my grandmother. The day my daughter was born my grandmother was there in the room giving her uncondional love as always. I remember the first time they looked into each others eyes is was magic. Ever since that moment they were always together. My daughter lived to go to Nanny's house they would garden, cook and take walks. Those walks brought out so many stories for my daughter that were learning experiences and knowledge of her past. When my Nanny became very ill this past Novemeber I took my daughter to see her which was the last time she would ever see her again. As it was time to go from our visit she ran into the room put her head on the bed and said bye Nanny I love you. I never hadd to tell her it was if she new that my grandmther had taughter her that love is something that doesn't need to be told to do. As days go by and the pain still lingers my daughter helps us all. She talks about her and all the fun they had and the many things she remembers for there walks and gardening. My daughters heart is full because of Nanny for the love that was given even and now still surrounds her. I believe she walks with her still because as Noelle says It'a a sunny day I can smell Nanny.

I have two stories for you.

My two and half year old has a love for tractors (and most other vehicles) that started around his first birthday. He was always a little hesitant around my dad until one day when Jack was around 18 months old, my dad took him by the hand and showed him his rubber car collection from when he was a kid. My dad took one of those precious rubber cars out of the cabinet it was displayed in and let Jack play with it. Ever since that day, Jack can't get enough of playing cars with his Boppa.

My other story is that when my daughter was born I didn't have that immediate love and adoration of her like I did with Jack. It actually took a while for me to fall in love with her. She was about 5 months old when it finally happened. She started giving me these huge open mouth kisses on the cheek and enormous hugs leaving me with scratch marks on the back of my neck. It was so sweet and I felt so tremendously loved by her, that I just couldn't help but love her back.

I had been a SAHM and always sort of felt like my son never quite really bonded with his dad, like he had with me. So when he was 3, he started preschool, and I knew we were not having more kids so I thought. OK, NOW WHAT? I had stopped working to be a mom fulltime, and did not want to go back to the same kind of work. So, I went back to school at the age of 38, to be whatever I wanted since I was grown up!
My husband and son were alone together, without being able to call and summon me for help, for the first time. Home alone together for dinner and bedtime, 3 nights a week from 5pm until 10:30 or 11pm. I was quite concerned about how they would both adapt.
By the end of the first month, my conservative, suit and tie wearing, 40 year old husband got his first tattoo: a blazing sun (representing his son) with our son's name across it. He was saying stuff like "he lights up my life and he warms my heart".
How cool is that?
I would say they bonded.

Hello C.,
I think that no one bonding experience is like any other and they are all just so magical!
We have just celebrated my daughter's first birthday, and yet it all still feels so new.
When I was pregnant, I was so afraid of post partum depression that I began talking to my belly all of the time. My husband would leave for work in the mornings, and I would lay back down and talk to my baby girl until I talked myself to sleep. To me, it was like I already knew her; that she was with me every day.
Her birth escallated fromwhat was supposed to be a natural childbirth with a midwife in a birthing room to a c-section at a hospital.
From the minute of her first cry, my husband caved in from his rugged exterior and instantly intwined himself around her little finger. I had to watch from afar, through a recovery process. I watched my husband hold her and get lost in her eyes. I couldn't be a part of getting up and feeding or changing her because of the surgery, and at the time, nursing wasn't working out for me. I was upset that I still hadn't had my special moment with my daughter.
At home for the first week it was the same thing. I had developed a spinal headache and could not even get myself to the bathroom let alone get up to take care of my daughter. I would cry in the middle of the night as I would surrender and wake my husband after a failed attempt of getting up to answer her cries. About a week later I had a blood patch done to correct the spinal headache. My husband bought steaks on the way home from the hospital to celebrate. I remember that it was the first beautiful, sunny day since her birth. For two days, I did not let her go.
I still tried to nurse her, but it was so hard and awkward. We had been pumping and giving her formula. That second day home from the hospital, I noticed that something wasn't qiute right. My daughter was more tired than any other day before in her life, and she was throwing up. We called the doctor, who said to take her to the emergency room to be on the safe side. He told us that she may be dehydrated and might need an IV just to get her back to normal.
Once at the hospital, it was a whole different fiasco. She was rushed into the Critical Care unit. I was told that I had to agree to a spinal tap or the hospital would get a judge's order and I would lose my child. When I asked why, they told me that she had meningitis. When I still protested because she did not have a fever, the doctor and I began to argue. My husband stepped in and kept us from getting any closer to each other. Because we had no choice but to give consent, we did. The test took two days and my protests to keep her off of antibiotics went unheard. I never left my daughter's side. I stroked her hair and held her every minute that I could.
Two days later, a pediatrician came in and told me that she had reflux. So we went home.
I felt so angry that I tried to be detactched because I did not want my daughter to pick up on the issue, but I couldn't let her out of my sight. I was so afraid of something happening to her. I enrolled myself in counselling because my fear, post partum depression, had set in. My biggest deal was that I still did not get that special moment with my daughter. Not special in the way I wanted it to be. granted we had that special mommy-baby thing going on.
over the next few weeks, my daughter and I caught on to the nursing thing...we went through a bout of thrush because of the antibiotics, but we caught on. No matter what, through all of the irritating situations, I always stroked and caressed my daughter's hair or skin as a way to soothe both of us. To pass the days we would say our morning prayers together, eat breakfast together, nap together, dance together, sing together, clean together. I just loved having my baby around me.
Then, the ultimate test happened. After a morning of cleaning and doing laundry, I decided to take an afternoon shower. My daughter was in a bouncy seat next to me, and as usual, I would be the fool and sing and dance while in the shower to entertain her as a means to stay in the shower long enough to wash out the soap. I left her in the bouncy seat to go into the bedroom and something wasn't right. The room just didn't seem right. It was foggy; misty like a scary movie. My room was on fire! I ran lauren outside and I went back in to try to put it out. i couldn't so I got my animals out and then began throwing my belongings into my truck. We went down the driveway as our house burned away.
There was a lot of anguish from that. Accusations that I started the fire for many different reasons, including killing my child. A year without anything. I was at my old house yesterday to show someone the damage because we are finally getting ready to rebuild. When I think about what would have happened if I had let her take a nap on that day last summer, I feel sick. last night that thought made me cry. My daughter, now 12 months, was next to me. She took her little hand and began to rub my face and arm, the same way I used to caress her in all of those other trying moments in the months before. That's when I knew that everything would be ok.

This might be a bit outside of the scope of your article, but you might want to look into how American birth practices negatively impact bonding.

I experienced, and connected with many other mothers who have, a lot of trouble bonding due to my baby being taken to the "warmer" instead of placed on my body for the first 45 minutes. When I finally got to see her she was wiped off and bundled up in clothes and blankets. It was like my baby had died and been replaced with some stranger. I later read that a lot of women who have this happen have that feeling, and that that's the norm with mammals. Think about it, when someone touches baby kittens, the mother rejects or even eats them!

I wish doctors understood how crucial those first moments of skin to skin contact are, goodness knows there is enough evidence out there about it, so that those of us that scream and beg and fight for it aren't seen as crazies for actually wanting to greet our own babies!

Growing up I tried to plan my life very carefully. Of course I ran into a couple of bumps along the way but for the most part I was heading down the straight and narrow. My plan was to make sure I received my degree, got a good job, and got married. After 5 years of marriage I new having a child would complete my journey. And so it happened, I knew this was one of the goals I could cross off my list. But then I looked at her and I knew right away that this was something more, something more than an item on a list. A feeling of joy and love came over me immediately when I held her in my arms for the first time. I knew at that moment that this right here, this moment was my true goal.

Through the years it has been difficult it takes all of my energy and all of my time to make sure that she is happy and protected from this cruel world. Sometimes I think maybe I don't have what it takes to do this, it is too much to handle. But one night when I was putting her to bed I laid down beside her. For a moment, we stared at each other without saying a word then my three year old put her hand on my cheek and started rubbing it. I said to her I love you Briana and she said I love you Mommy. I wanted to cry, because I knew right then at that very moment everything that I have worked so hard for up to this point was all for her and it was so worth it.

Hi C......I have a funny/cute/touching daughter named Ilena who is almost 18 months old.I cant believe that it seems like just yesterday when I endured 21 hours of hard labor, and 3hrs of pushing before I held my beautiful daughter.Ilena was 7lbs 10.6 oz, but I tell you what the size of that head is what I was looking at! Her head was 14 and a half inches around. Can you even imagine? When I saw her for the first time, I swear I looked at her face for half an hour before I even looked at my husband who was right next to me. I saw those same beautiful eyes my mother saw in me. I saw those ears that I knew one day wouldnt listen to me. She had my button nose, my scream, she had my husbands hair color which is red by the way. I breastfed my daughtet, but when I could no longer breastfeed, I was lost.I loved that time with her that no one else could even give her.I knew then that I was in the bonding stage, but what I didnt know is that bonding never ends. A bond between mother and baby is forever.I have a recent bonding story. Just the other night before bed, I was laying on the couch, and my daughter wanted to lay with me which she is always welcome to do so. I picked her up, and placed her along side my body, but behind me.I placed my hand on my leg, and she place her hand in my hand, and squeezed it. That was the first time that she ever did that herself. I cried, it was so sweet. It didnt end there either, I went to roll over and she touched my forhead and said,"night night mommy". Bonding isnt just about holding them, kissing them, reading to them. Though, those are just as important. It is about teaching them to have many interests,fun,appreciate the beauty of nature.It is about entering friendships and honoring them with good people.It is about appreciateing family.Listening to her own emotions.Adhere to her values.Teaching your child not to be afraid to stick to their beliefs.Plan life for themselves.