I am afraid

There are many times in life when I've found myself scared of what is to come. Starting middle school, then high school. Getting my first job. Graduating high school and starting college. Attending college on my own. Getting my degree and trying to find a job. Getting married. All of these times it was fear of the unknown that stopped me in my tracks and left me wondering how I was going to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

By far the scariest times, for me, when I've feared the unknown future the most, have been when I was pregnant.

When I found out I was pregnant with M, I told Craig, then we promptly went to tell my parents, brother, and sister-in-law. I wanted to tell them as soon as I knew I was pregnant, but I also thought that maybe I should wait a bit to make sure the pregnancy would "stick." Sure enough, a few days after we shared our news I began spotting. I cried, hysterical maybe. I told Craig "see? we shouldn't have told anyone yet!" We called the ER and the nice nurse on the line talked me down. I was terrified I was losing this baby that I hadn't realized I wanted that badly. "Are you needing more than 1 pad an hour?" the nurse had asked. No, it was nowhere near that. I hadn't known about implantation bleeding. (It has not occurred with my subsequent pregnancies.)

Later in my first pregnancy I was required to be tested to see if I was a carrier of Cystic Fibrosis. It was a simple blood test that turned into a major worry. I am, indeed, a carrier of CF. In middle school I was good friends with a boy who had CF. I knew enough about it to be terrified that my child would have it. We were sent to genetic counseling. In order for a child to have CF, both parents must be carriers. We had options. We could roll the dice and see how our baby turned out or we could pay $200 to have Craig tested as well. We paid the money so that I could spend the rest of my pregnancy worrying about other things. Craig is not a carrier.

When I was pregnant with K, I had different fears. I feared that I was short-changing my daughter who would be only just-turned-two when the new baby would arrive. I was scared that I wouldn't have the capacity to care for two young children. I was scared that my daughter would be resentful of the intruder. Again, my fears, my issues. My daughter loved her little brother from the beginning...even before he was born. I should have seen it then, but I was too busy being scared.

So here I am again, pregnant and scared.

I'm scared that I am pressing my luck. I have two beautiful, healthy children already. How dare I think that I deserve another?

I'm scared that this child will feel left out because he/she will be so much younger than his/her siblings who are already such good friends.

I'm scared that I will attend my first prenatal visit and discover that this baby is not growing as he/she should.

I'm scared that my third c-section will take such an extraordinarily long time that I will begin to feel the pain as the doctors finish putting me back together. (K's surgery took 2 1/2 hours.)

I'm scared that K will become the stereotypical "forgotton" middle child.

I'm scared that we will not be able to agree on a name for this child.

I'm scared that I will not be a good mother of three.


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