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Does everyone feel that instant bond with their baby?

“I didn’t love my son the moment he was born.”


For years, I wanted to be a mum. Not in a vague, one day maybe way—but in a deeply certain, future-shaping way. Finding my person. Having children. It wasn’t if—it was when.


After two long, emotionally exhausting years of trying to conceive, an IVF appointment booked (and all the feelings that come with that), we fell pregnant with our first son. I spent most of the pregnancy cautiously optimistic—hopeful, but guarded. And then, in June 2015, he arrived. Healthy. Perfect. Ours.


I became a mum.


This was the moment I’d imagined. The movie moment. The photo-worthy moment. The moment I’d seen replayed endlessly in birth announcements and mother’s group posts.


And yet—somewhere between the adrenaline wearing off and the epidural fading—I noticed something quietly unsettling.


I felt relief.

I felt awe.

I felt responsibility.

I felt calm… and fear… and protectiveness.


But I did not feel in love.


Everyone else seemed to feel it instantly.“

Completely in love.”

“Love at first sight.”

“My heart exploded.”


Mine didn’t.


And that single absence—that one missing feeling—sparked a flood of shame-filled questions.


What’s wrong with me?

Why don’t I feel what I’m meant to feel?

Did I miss something fundamental?


When biology doesn’t match the story we’re told

Here’s what we don’t talk about enough.


Pregnancy and birth don’t just change our lives—they change our brains.


Neuroscience shows that during pregnancy and the early post-partum period, the brain undergoes significant structural and functional changes. Regions involved in empathy, vigilance, emotional regulation, threat detection, and social bonding show increased activity and connectivity. This is not poetic language—it’s measurable neurological re-wiring.


Hormones like oxytocin and dopamine surge to support bonding, motivation, and caregiving. The maternal brain becomes exquisitely tuned to the baby’s cues—crying, breathing, movement, distress.


This is why many mothers experience:

  • Hyper-vigilance (“Is he breathing?”)

  • Heightened anxiety

  • Obsessive checking

  • Fierce protectiveness

  • An overwhelming pull toward their baby


Neuroscientists sometimes call this the maternal motivation system—a powerful neurobiological network designed to keep a tiny, vulnerable human alive.


And yes—for many mothers, this system arrives alongside that rush of instant love.


But not for all.


The quiet truth: attachment isn’t always immediate

Somewhere between 1 in 5 mothers don’t feel that instant emotional bond.


Instead, they feel:

  • Confusion

  • Guilt

  • Emotional flatness

  • Disconnection

  • Fear that they’re “doing motherhood wrong”


That was me.


And what made it harder was this:I had no “reason” I could point to.


My birth was straightforward.

My pregnancy was medically uncomplicated.

I had support.

I had knowledge.

I was a psychologist.


Surely, if anyone was meant to feel this instantly—it was me.


But neuroscience doesn’t work on moral deserving.


Sometimes the nervous system needs time, not pressure.


Expectation vs reality: a powerful psychological mismatch

In hindsight, one of the biggest contributors to my distress wasn’t the absence of instant love—it was the expectation that it must be there.


Expectation–reality mismatch is one of the fastest ways to activate shame and threat responses in the brain.

I expected to be transformed immediately.

Instead, I felt… human.

Overwhelmed.

Unsure.

Tired.

Learning.


And every “You’ll know the moment you hold them” comment unintentionally reinforced the belief that something had gone wrong.


It hadn’t.


My love didn’t arrive in a cinematic surge.

It arrived quietly. Gradually. Relationally.


It grew in the 3am feeds.

In learning his cues.

In holding him through sickness.

In repetition, presence, and time.


A slow burn.


And slow doesn’t mean broken.


What actually supports bonding (without pressure)

This is where science is wonderfully kind.


Bonding isn’t a single moment—it’s a process. One supported by:

  • Skin-to-skin contact (which increases oxytocin in both mother and baby)

  • Repeated caregiving interactions

  • Safety, rest, and support

  • Reduced threat and shame


And importantly—bonding can still occur even when it doesn’t start immediately.


However, if emotional numbness, detachment, or distress persists, it can also signal post-partum depression or anxiety—and that deserves support, not silence.


There are many valid reasons attachment may feel difficult:

  • Birth trauma

  • Feeding challenges

  • Sleep deprivation

  • Hormonal shifts

  • Mental health history

  • Lack of support

  • Or… no clear reason at all

All of these are human. None are failures.


What I wish someone had said to me

“You’re not broken.”“

Love doesn’t have a deadline.”

“Your nervous system is learning something new.”

“This will not define the relationship you build.”


Motherhood doesn’t arrive as a single feeling.

It arrives as a relationship.


And relationships take time.


A gentle ask

If you’re a parent—or about to be—let’s widen the story.


Let’s talk about the beautiful moments and the confusing ones.

The joy and the quiet grief for what we expected.The instant bonds and the slow-burning ones.


Because the more honest we are, the safer other parents feel.


And none of us were meant to do this silently.


If this resonates, I’d love to hear from you. Or send this to someone who needs to hear this.


Sometimes just knowing we’re not alone changes everything.




This article forms part of the What's on your Mind? series—a space for the thoughts we often carry quietly—the ones that surface in moments of doubt, transition, fatigue, or unexpected emotion.


This series explores the inner experiences we don’t always have language for, drawing on psychology, neuroscience, and lived experience to gently unpack what’s happening beneath the surface. Not to pathologise it—but to normalise it, make sense of it, and bring a little relief through understanding.

Because sometimes the most important question isn’t “What’s wrong with me? ”It’s simply, “What’s going on in my mind right now?”



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