No one is born a ready-made mum. Even if you had plans, preparations for childbirth, courses and ideas of how things should be, the first meeting with your newborn child changes everything. Not just your life, but yourself. You are already a mother. But do you feel like you have become one?

In the first days and weeks after the birth of a child, a new role can seem gigantic, incomprehensible, even frightening. It's like playing the lead in a film without rehearsals, where the script changes every day.

Sometimes it's love at first sight. And sometimes it's a slow process of getting into the role, step by step, through fatigue, tears, trial and error.

During this period, questions often arise:

• "I don't seem to be a real mum..."
• "Why am I not as happy as I imagined?"
• "Maybe I'm doing something wrong?"
• "When will it get easier?"

In fact, these doubts and searches are a normal part of adaptation after childbirth. Alive. Human.

Reva Rubin's theory of maternal identity

Reva Rubin is an American researcher who, back in the 1960s, was the first to systematically describe the process of how a woman psychologically becomes a mother. She emphasised that this is not an "instinct", but an adaptation that occurs gradually.

The main stages of the formation of the maternal role:

1. Mimicry
   At this stage, a woman copies the behaviour of other mothers: she reads, listens to advice, and observes.
2. Role play
   Interaction with the child becomes an attempt to "try on" a new role: feeding, rocking, responding to signals.
3. Introjection and incorporation
   Gradually, an inner sense of "I am a mother" emerges and an emotional connection is formed.
4. Mourning the loss of the previous self
   This stage is important: a woman may miss her freedom, work, and her familiar body - it is part of a healthy adjustment.
5. Adopting a new identity
   The role of a mother becomes a part of the personality. A woman can combine motherhood with her other identities.

Not everyone feels like a mother right away, and there is nothing wrong with that

Sometimes a mother looks at her newborn child and is overwhelmed by a wave of love, tears of happiness, and confidence: here it is, finally. But it happens quite differently. Mum looks and doesn't feel anything special. It's just a little creature that cries, moves, demands. And at the same time - a stranger. Not close. And definitely not "my continuation".

Maryna, a mother of a two-week-old son, recalls: "I was lying in the ward with him and thinking: "So what? Is this it? Is this the great connection that everyone is talking about?" I was ashamed. I expected to become a mother and feel it right away. Instead, I felt guilty and alienated from this little alien."

This is a common story. Because the connection doesn't always come right away. For some, it is born in the first second. For others, it happens slowly, gradually. Through sleepless nights, through trying to understand why the baby is crying, through the first successful "I finally calmed you down". This is a relationship. And like any relationship, it takes time, intimacy, and trust. There is no right or wrong way to feel like a mum. There is just your way.

When a child is born, everything changes - and it's hardly easy

Adapting to motherhood is like migrating to another country. It's as if you suddenly find yourself in a foreign world without a dictionary, where the rules are blurred, there are no landmarks, and you also have someone on your hands all the time who cannot tell you what they need. It changes absolutely everything. The day no longer starts with coffee. Sometimes it doesn't start at all because it hasn't ended. The night is not about rest, but about the cycle of feeding, rocking, feeding again.

And in all this, you change. You don't lose yourself, you change. Something that used to be commonplace, like taking a shower or meeting for coffee, suddenly becomes a logistical challenge. And you start thinking: "Maybe I'm not coping?" But the point is not that there is something wrong with you. It's just that you're living in a new reality in which your nervous system, emotions, and identity are just beginning to understand what's going on.

Sometimes it really feels like a crisis

The experience of motherhood is not just about "oh, how happy I am". It's also about losing your footing. On yourself, on your time, on your usual way of life. You change, but this change is not always gentle. It is often accompanied by sadness, confusion, and attempts to regain at least something of your own. And this is not surprising at all.

It's a psychological adjustment. Your identity is growing. It changes not because something is broken, but because you have a new role in you - the role of a mother. And for it to take hold, you need space. This means that you need to let go of a part of your previous self. And sometimes it hurts. But it is very honest.

Fatigue is not your fault. It's a sign that you're working at your limit

It seems that "everyone is tired", and this is something secondary. But after the birth of a child, fatigue becomes a constant companion that seems to be with you always. Your body is working 24/7. Your mind is on alert. You have almost no social contacts. And at the same time, you are also trying to "be yourself" - someone who reads, moves, and does not lose herself.

And here it is important to say out loud: this is a lot. It is more than it seems. And your fatigue is quite logical. It's not a sign of weakness or poor time management. It's just that you are now carrying a new life and building a new you. And you have the right to be exhausted.

A mother is not a robot

Your value is not in your to-do list. And not in how many rules of education you have learnt. Your value is in your connection. In the fact that you are there. That you respond. That you keep going, even when you're tired. That you make mistakes and try again.

This bond is not formed from perfect days. It comes from simple moments:

• When you stroke your child's back;
• when you feel like you "can't take it" - and you do it anyway;
• when you are crying - and still smile through your tears.

This is exactly what adaptation is. Not an Instagram picture, not heroics, not "I can do everything". It's a slow, real entry into the role that will become yours. Over time. At your own pace.