I'm reading We Need to Talk About Kevin, and am at the bit where she gives birth. Her point is that her expectations of that first encounter with her baby far exceeded the reality. It got me thinking about what I expected to feel and what I did feel when I first met my babies - firstborn in particular.
I don't think I had really thought past the actually birth process, so I remember being surprised by what thoughts popped into my head at the end of the birth. As he slithered out after that last push I remember thinking how nice and warm it felt. I also remember feeling that I should be dying to meet my baby and saying 'where's my baby?' in a breathless, dramatic way that've got me a BAFTA (or at least a part in Holby City). When I held him, I remember thinking that he was bigger and less creased than I expected - my ds was particularly pink and perky all wide eyed and looking about. (I think dd (second baby) was more what I expected - she was greyish-mauve, completely battered and screamed for 15 mins! And because I knew what to expect, I was much more relaxed about her.)
I was very very happy with ds, but more overwhelmed by the whole birth process - and amazed by myself and what I had just done. After the initial cuddle, I couldn't hold him for a while because I had complicated tearing, so I watched my husband with him and talked incessantly - a kind of post-match analysis! I did enjoy the first feed - it gave me something to do - my first shot at being a mother IYKWIM.
When I was wheeled off to the ward, the baby was bundled up and put in my arms, and I remember being quite surprised, as in 'oh, yes, my baby - I get to keep him!'
It was once I was up on the ward and alone with him, I didn't sleep a wink and spent the night gazing at him and quietly weeping because he was so beautiful - and he was mine.
What were (are if it's still to come) your expectations of that first meeting? What was the reality.