When I had my first baby, the first few weeks were an amazing experience.

I have a baby! I am a mother! It was exciting and exhilarating. But it was also scary and terrifying. Everything was just so new and different! It was thrilling, rewarding, pleasing and overwhelming.

I was completely drunk with the rush of love, excitement, sleep deprivation and the fact that I was at the beginning of a brand new life.

Motherly love was a new experience, and it was grand.

When I had my second baby, life was a bit rocky for our family. I was pretty drained emotionally.

I didn’t feel “connected” to my newborn. There was a bond, but we were hanging by a fine thread. Waking up in the middle of the night, feeding, changing, burping – I was tired and cheerless. It was all a chore and a duty. I didn’t have a good time.

As I held my newborn, I knew I loved him so much. But I didn’t glow with any radiance, nor did my heart swell with the sweetness of motherhood. The love I had for my child was more of an intellectual truth.

I guess it’s nice to know that despite the two very different beginnings, the relationship I now have with my sons are the same – I absolutely love both of them, with my everything.

This time with my third baby, the feeling of love is again very different.

It’s quiet and peaceful. Stronger perhaps. More mature. And much wiser.

It’s knowing that I’m blessed. It’s knowing that this will be the last time I will hold a newborn so intimately. That every moment from this time onward, is precious… and a last.

My love is a deep and treasured gratefulness.

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