My sister would joke that I had "a perfect pregnancy". I experienced no illness, no aches or pains, no hormonal outbursts. I took my vitamins, did my exercises, ate a balanced diet. I made it full-term and could still "forget" that I was pregnant bc I felt so damn wonderful. My son was a tad overcooked (11 days overdue) but everything was still "perfect"... until my water broke. I had been working through heavy contractions for a few hours before I went to the hospital. Upon being admitted, my midwife offered to break my bag of waters to speed things along. I happily accepted her offer. I felt a warm gush and a silence fell over the room. Meconium. And a lot of it. "It should be fine." My midwife repeated to my boyfriend and I. "Everything will be okay." My doula incessantly whispered in my ear. I felt in control and calm. "My son will be alright." I repeated in my head. Three hours later, I was ready to push. I thought of my son during every contraction and every push. I would be meeting him soon! After ten minutes, his head was out. One more push and my midwife instructs me to stop. His shoulder was stuck. She reached inside and maneuvered his shoulder loose. Five minutes later, she pulled his limp body into the air. He was beautiful but something was wrong. I began to cry. The pediatrician and nurse worked over him for what seemed like forever. They intubated him three times. All I wanted was to hear that cry! Finally I heard a whimper. And he was being wheeled out the door, alongside my boyfriend, to the special care nursery. The room was silent as my midwife delivered my placenta. I felt empty and alone. There were so many emotions inside me that I felt like I was drowning. Three hours later, I was finally able to see him. He wasn't able to breathe on his own. His tiny body had been hooked up to so many tubes and machines that I was unable to hold him. I spent the next couple days completely numbed. Family and friends filtered in and out of our hospital room and I was in a daze. I felt incomplete. When he was finally released to us, something still felt off. Was this baby really mine? We took him home and it's been hard. I want to cry whenever I really look at him. I'm so grateful that he is thriving and doing well but I feel like I lost something. I was not prepared for this. I just don't feel right. No matter how close I hold him, I feel like he's a thousand miles away. It's been three weeks and I struggle to feel that bond. I miss the joy that I felt when he was in my belly. When will I begin to feel like a mother?