Crazy in love

I know that the love of a mother for her child is neurologically the basis for all love, but it’s not like a stronger version of love, it’s not like any other love I’ve felt. I am so uniquely in love with my daughter.
Most other kinds of love I’ve felt have been the warm and bubbly kind, where you literally feel warm, either with kindness and affection or lust or both. This is more like a tidal wave or quicksand where you feel like you’re sinking, but in a good way. It’s that “falling” in love feeling. But not like you’re getting in over your head in a scary sort of way (this is exactly how I felt about my husband at first, BTW, and it turned out great!). It’s a slow sinking, but a happy one. The best way I can describe it is like when you sink into a warm bed.
And it’s not always present; it’s there, but sometimes you’re frustrated or tired or distracted. And to be perfectly honest it took me a couple of weeks for it to get well established. It was most definitely there, but not always “there” if that makes any sense. But now, five weeks in, it is more deeply rooted, and while it’s not always on the surface, when it does bubble up I am completely overwhelmed by the immense love I feel for my daughter, even if she’s just lying there groaning in her sleep. Sometimes I just hold her well after she’s fallen asleep, just because I can.
It is not like any other love I’ve felt. It’s overwhelming, but not in an overpowering sort of way. It just IS. She just IS. It is so hard to describe to someone who hasn’t had a child before. Just their existence is enough. Just them being is wonderful. And of course any sort of smile, or nestling into your arms, or calming of tears as you hold them, is just bliss.

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