Motherhood as been a whirlwind of emotions for me. The worry, the pride, the excitement, the anger, the frustration, the love.

Oh man, the love. I think that’s what confusing us as moms. Really. I mean think about it you love your own parents & your siblings & maybe even your significant other. But it’s not the same love. This love that we have for our children is insane.

Really, I think I could go insane with the amount of love I hold for my boy.

When Tank was born (nickname for him) it was unreal. The labor was painless but problematic. I was lucky enough to have him naturally.. Sort of? There was a lot going on in the room and medical talk and before you know it he was (slightly) cleaned up and laid on my chest.

This is where it gets tricky, the love thing. Knowing that this little innocent human was mine and was healthy because of me gave me joy. I loved him because I successfully gave him life. I loved him because I’m his mommy. But I didn’t have that sense of love that you see on tv/Facebook/ or Instagram.

Does that make me a bad mom?

No. Because I later found it to be normal and proudly tell people that I had to make the connection with him. Because they too struggled with it.

About 2-3 weeks went by and we settled into one another. We became comfortable with each other and I became obsessive like any other mother. But I was still missing a little something. A part of me wonders if I would’ve breast fed maybe that would’ve helped.

And then one day it happened. I was changing Tanks diaper and he was staring at me and just did this huge smile. And in a matter of seconds I’m in tears because my heart had grown so much with just that smile. He showed his love for me and showed me that I made him happy. & that’s when it all clicked. My baby boy was all mine. He was so perfect and everything I never knew I needed. I loved him to the fullest extent.

Tank is my best friend and I never doubted my love for him, just had wondered if there would be more. And let me tell you, I love that little boy more than I could ever imagine. & to think “I thought I loved you then.”

Does that make me a bad mom?