Sinking in

So the last of the relatives and visitors has gone home now and B has gone back to work. The initial excitement and disruption has passed and it's time to start re-ordering our lives around this new person. I feel like I'm a little out at sea. My adult life, previously nice and quiet and orderly, is gone. All my routines and habits no longer apply. I'm starting from scratch.

Before Saul was born, I worried that I wouldn't love him enough. So much is made of parental love that I wasn't sure I would be capable of it. When he was born, I had a brief, intense moment where I recognized him and knew instinctively that he was mine. But as soon as the nurses took him off my chest, it was gone. I spent the next few days being fascinated by him, but not really feeling anything. I didn't tell anyone, but I thought my fears were confirmed and I was not capable of being a parent and loving a baby like I was supposed to. But gradually, this incredibly intense bond began to grow. It's an entirely different feeling than the love I have for B or my parents or anyone else. It's this fiercely primitive protectiveness that makes me want to devote my entire life to making sure that he is happy and safe.

And I guess it's also what makes me not mind that he just vomited all over my shirt. Again.

Dammit.