Mina looked at the pink baby in the bassinet near her bed. This was not her first child, yet, the feeling was alien to her. It was as if she had not only recently pushed the baby out of her. She could not form any bond with her newborn and she didn’t know why. She felt… empty.
She knew the routine of taking care of a newborn:
breastfeeding, cuddling, diaper changes round the clock, she knew them all, and
she did them almost mechanically. But deep down, she wished she didn’t have to.
That was not how she felt with Skye, her first son. She had
felt overwhelming love for him from the moment he had been placed in her arms.
She had not wanted anyone else to hold him for too long. She had invested so
much of her emotions into Skye that, looking at little Curtis, her newborn, it
seemed she had none left for him.
She felt guilty about it most of the time. She knew that
she must love Curtis more than she did now, but she just could not bring
herself to it. Unlike with Skye, the connection with Curtis seemed fake and
forced. She recalled, as she looked at Curtis, that she used to read to Skye
while she cuddled him to sleep; now, if she read to Curtis, it was another
chore that she must tick off her to-do list. It was as if she was not the one
who gave birth to him.
Both Mina’s mother and her mother-in-law had assured her
that the feeling would pass, but until when? Her husband, Marcus, had done his
bit by taking on most of the chores to ease the burden on her and foster the
bond between mother and child. Yet, she
still felt dead inside.
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