It is strange to see how one's opinion have a situation may be changing. Changes in time, are gradually and it is not necessarily related to how we are educated, or even the views of people around us facing the same situation. I would say it's visceral, it is implanted in us, that uncertainty, that doubt, that way we have to take three steps forward five steps back. And as the idea may sound pleasant and caressing, as fears about this situation accumulate.
I would not say if this is the age that leads me to think that way, or if my fears are justified by some dark fantasies that I create in my head, but they are there, very present. There are about 10 years that I did not want children, or rather, I did not give birth. I wanted to adopt. I wanted to give chance to a child without parents to love and tenderness, but without engaging in what I thought was the worst thing ever. Pregnancy scared me terribly, but it was the birth that terrified me.
Years passed and I headed over to adulthood, the more the idea of having a child myself, I would have worn, and I was catching up, little by little, the fears that are made less large, although still present, and the idea of giving birth seemed even possible. The years go, I meet my man. A solid relationship of love binding us, we talk, we discuss, we evaluate the possibilities to see what would happen if I became pregnant. By dint of conversations we decided, in time to marry first and to consider forming a family then. I like the idea, I think even very often.
age catches up to me quietly and I fear it sometimes occurs too late in my life, but I dream. I dream about what my children will look like. I give them names already and I imagine IT LOOKS LIKE, my spouse and me, a mix of DNA and traits, as nature knows so well. I know what values will motivate the education I want to give them, and I also know that those of my man coincide with mine.
But I'm afraid. I am petrified. What scares me now more than anything, this is not the same pregnancy or childbirth (though the fears are still there), but rather the visceral fear of not being a good mother. While I am confident that the education I had, even if I trust the love that I can give them, the fear takes hold of each parcel of my being and I tremble at the thought of doing wrong. I was told recently that if I did not feel ready yet, I had to wait. And that's what I'm already doing for so long. But I'm afraid I'll never be ready. I'm afraid I'll never live up to the expectations of society towards mothers, future and present, or even my own expectations.
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