I delivered my first daughter naturally, and the transition and pushing stages felt like they lasted for 2 days. By the time my baby was placed in my arms, I could barely lift my arms, they were so weak.  Though I didn't say it aloud, my only thought was, 'Someone please take her from me. She's so heavy and I just need to rest these weary arms.'

My mother stayed with me after I came home from the hospital. She loves the newborn stage best, so between my husband and her, I had no need to hold my baby for a few days except when attempting to breastfeed with those huge, postpartum breasts.

The day came when my mom had to go home. My husband had left for work, so I shut the door behind Mom, turned around, looked at my baby, and sobbed. I thought it was just because I was going to miss my mom and all of her help. But they were probably mostly tears of fear. You would think that I had been apprenticing in a well staffed zoo, and now the head zookeeper and staff had left, and I was staring into the maw of a ferocious tiger I needed to feed.

Thankfully, motherly instinct pushed me to pick up that "tiger." But I held her away from me so I could look straight in her face and I said, "It's just you and me, Kid." And I sobbed. But I sobbed and pulled her close and hugged and rocked and kissed that little face probably a thousand times . . . and over the next few days, I fell in love. This was not an instance of "instant mother bond" or "love at first sight," but of doing the loving thing simply because you know it's right, and thereby creating love.

The welcoming of my first baby happened over 22 years ago.  That baby is now a happy college senior who was homeschooled through 12th grade by this mommy who at first didn't know what in the world to make of her.

As a long-time, "entrenched" stay-at-home mom, it was fun to think back to a day when I was a scared newbie.

Love to you from one of your biggest fans,,

Nannette