A forewarning of my child being captured? I did not know she would be a prisoner of addiction; no mother would.
I will keep my baby’s name secret, and Christen her Bella. A name depicting beauty, for she was a beautiful child, a special soul.
I’ll start my story at the beginning: my husband and I were young parents, he 22 and I, 21 when Bella was born. He worked long hours, so I could stay home and nurture our daughter. We owned our own house; a small detached on a popular housing estate.
I was ill after giving birth. I did not hold my baby for three days. By this time, she was content to be fed by a bottle. My inexperience did not tell me I could have taken over and breast-fed her. A bonding opportunity lost? I don’t think so, I love her dearly, and she me.
After spending our first two weeks, together in hospital we went home. At first, I was nervous of her. Was I doing everything right? You may be thinking–neurotic mother; no wonder the kid had problems, but she didn’t and I wasn’t. I soon cottoned on to motherhood, the joys it offered, and relaxed in the part.
My baby did not like to be held tight, to be embraced or cuddled. I had to hold her as if in a hammock, my arm under her back for support, and keep her body away from mine. Was this an indication of things to come?