Motherhood is probably one of the most beautiful things that can happen in a woman’s life. Most women dream of the day when they will start a family with their life partner and embark on the epic journey of raising another human being.
As for me… I have no idea what I’m doing.
Thirty years into my existence, my husband and I have finally decided to have a child. A part of me has been wanting to have a baby for the last couple of years. Now that I’m pregnant, though, I’m freaking out.
My dad died when I was 13 years old which meant my mother had to work overseas in order to support us. I grew up with no parents and had to survive with just my siblings by my side. It was fun growing up to be honest. No rules, no curfew, and no nagging.
The down side of it was, there was also no one to teach me basic household things that would come in handy when it was my turn to raise kids. I can’t cook. I can’t iron clothes properly. I don’t know how to dry clothes without stretching them out permanently.
Growing up with three younger siblings also meant I got to see the annoying side of kids all the time. I don’t hate kids but I also did not become the type of adult who ooh’d and ahh’d at the sight of babies. I don’t know what to do with them because my only experience in handling kids was when I was a kid myself. I got to smack my siblings around and that wasn’t illegal.
Now that I’m four months into my pregnancy, my hormone-addled brain is going crazy with paranoia. Can I really survive having a miniature human being rip through my lady parts? What if my baby is a girl and she ends up getting cheated on by all her future boyfriends? What if my kid hates me?
I decided to start this blog as an outlet for my crazy thoughts. If someone ends up reading this and feels a bit better knowing that they’re not the only one freaking out, then that’s great. If someone comes along and actually gives my some helpful advice, then that’s even better.