Not your mama

My parents were so lucky. They didn' have to agonize over complications of having a baby, weighing the costs and benefits, fearing of the unkown. They just had me when they were young. Or at least that's what it seems.

I'm getting older and closer to the age when most women have their first child. Mid 20's, while the risks of pathology aren't high and mother's body is generally healthy. I feel like I'm a type of person who, if given a chance, needs plenty of mental preparation for such changes in life. It's so damn scary though. My husband is fine. I can picture him as a dad even now. But what about me? I never see myself being worthy of rearing a new life. At least not now.

 I curse. I occasionally have pretty severe mood swings, depression. I spend way too much time at work and am terrible at managing my time. I'm a lousy housewife and selfish to consider post-natal effects on my body. Sitting in the library, I look at a man with a little girl. She eats there and speaks loudly while, what appears to be her dad, is barely keeping up with the whirlpool of her questions. With all of its inappropriateness (girl's food and noise) this looks cute and makes me feel better.

I wish I could share with my parents that I'm afraid to have kids. I have kids in my class, who are like my own kids, but I can never imagine being fully and completely responsible for their lives. It would seem like too much. Would I ever be good enough. One thing I remember my dad once said is that it's surprisingly no that easy to mess a kid up. They are more resilient than I might think. Hope he's right.