Hubs kept assuring me "Of course you'll love him, he's your baby!"
I was still filled with self doubt. A little voice inside me whispered what if I don't love him? what if I can't bond with me?
Fast forward to week 39, when I first saw him: swaddled up in the blue, hospital issued fuzzy blanket with pudgy cheeks, a shock of thick, dark hair and that sweet, milky newborn smell, a rush of emotions flooded through me. A mixture of being in awe of that tiny, wonderful being in front of me, a ferocious mummy protectiveness, and yes, with it came along that magical moment: a whole and complete love.
Photos below of Bubs taken at a couple of weeks old. I couldn't stop staring at how tiny and perfect his fingers were and that satisfied, drunk on milk look after each feeding.
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