Why can't I love my own child?

Since I gave birth, I have not been myself. No, I was quick-tempered and nervous about little things before, but not cruel, no. From the first month of my life, I combed the depths of the Internet in search of revelations from women who found themselves in a similar situation. I admit, my soul felt lighter from the realization that I was not the only one in the world. HoweverNaturally, my life didn’t get better from this. I found out thatpregnant when she was admitted to the hospital. When asked, we savepregnancy or not, I answered “yes” without hesitation. I haven’t learned in my life to think carefully before doing something. This is what will be discussed in my confession.

From the first month I realized that I was far from feeling happy. However, then it was not about the child. At first, we were irritated by the conditions in which we had to live and adapt to this very new life. There were practically no amenities, except for a sofa and a table. I cried incessantly, hugged the child and was slowly tormented by the belated pangs of doubt. Definitely,my attitude towards my daughter was tender and test-antibiotic.com reverent, and I was tired from nightly lack of sleep, lack of understanding of what my child needed at the moment, but I still did not carry within me the hatred that arose later.

Later, from the second or third month, I began to notice from time to time that her crying terribly annoyed me, while I tried to accustom her to a routine, which meant feeding, sleeping, and being awake at the same time. This probably doesn’t happen very often with a breastfed baby, so from time to time I gave up and closed my eyes to the need for this very regimen. Then she started again and again. My nervous system was shaken specifically due to the constant desire to be an exemplary mother - getting up, washing, exercising in the morning, active wakefulness, developmental activities and gymnastics during the day, frequent walks in the fresh air, constantcommunication , etc. and so on.

And suddenly, in the midst of all my “wonderful” motherhood, I saw myself - thin, gray, with oily, overgrown hair roots. In general, it became scary to hate myself. Then I began to hate my own terriblydaughter . She began to infuriate test-antibiotic.com me with her squealing more and more, my hands were itching to grab her and shake and shake as hard as I could! I began to use force and my thoughts became blacker day by day.

Now she is 5 months old and I'm scared. I'm very sorry for my little daughter. In a calm state, I am aware of my actions and I am very, very sorry for what I did. But, nevertheless, I am becoming more and more irritated and yelling every day. I hope there is the right advice or solution to my grandioseproblems , I would even be glad to save my child from myself. I'm afraid for herthe future is with a mother like me.