A few days ago my grandma all from nowhere said that she never ever imagined me as a mother. Of all my cousins I was (by bets) the one who was never going to have a kid. Here I am. 


Motherhood hit me all from nowhere and hit me hard. I remember when I leaves the hospital. It was a really cold and cloudy Friday. 

As soon as I stepped out of the hospital the world crashed against me. My hands and legs started to shake and I swear I was about to pass out. I managed to get it ass to the car without anyone noticing and once we were there I slept. All the way home. The first two weeks are blurry for me. Non sleeping nights. Anxious at day. Crying for everything. Scared of everything but most of all I was mad at myself. Mad for not feeling all the love people say you feel towards your new born. 

I wasn’t feeling any connection to him. He was a total stranger to me. Talking to him was hard and I honestly felt like a really really bad person for not being able to bond with my own son in the way I’ve wanted to. 

It took me around one month and a half to feel comfortable. To feel “myself” (but not at all). To be able to go to the super market or the mall without disassociate real bad. It took me a lot to picture myself as a mother. I felt super weird with the stroller. I felt super weird in the pediatrician appointments. I was completely out of myself and lost. 

And if I didn’t had the amazing friends and family I have. I would be the same. But thanks to them who listened to me and talked with a kind heart ❤️ thanks to them I was able to allowed myself to feel a connection with B. To start a life bond. 

To this day I can say 100% that we are connected. I feel safe. He feels safe. I feel loved. He feels loved. 

We got this. 


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An honest journey through recovery from a couple of mental illness, trying to get myself and life back together while I am the mom of a little muppet called Benjamín. Born, raised and currently living in México City. 🐒

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