I am going to be a parent. In less than 6 months there will be an infant under my care (and of course the care of my wife).
I’m excited. And honestly, I’m scared shitless.
This weekend we picked up a crib and dresser from some of our wonderful amazing friends. And things got just a little bit more real.
I have fears. Fears about how this illness will impact my ability to parent. Fears about my ability to raise a child in general.
I know that it is entirely normal to have these fears. I know that I will still be a great parent.
But I am scared.
And it is hard to fight these fears. I don’t know how, other than to keep going. I know I’m great with kids. But I know I get stressed out and react in ways that are less than beautiful. I fear that the stress of having an infant will shut me down and I will have post partum depression(even though I’m not carrying).
These specific fears are new and foreign to me. This is a daunting responsibility. One I take very seriously.
I have never been a parent before. This is the unknown and I am leaping in headfirst and what if the pool isn’t filled with water and what if. . .
And what if it’s the best thing I ever do?
What if I find a fulfillment and wonder and beauty I have never known before?
What if this fear simply means I realize the great responsibility being placed on my shoulders?
What if I am an amazing parent?
I could choose to drown in the fears. I could do that easily. I’ve done it many times before. Getting caught up in my own headspace is something which comes naturally to me.
What matters is that I give those fears their voice. I let myself have them. But I come back at them with the other what ifs.
Living in fear is a choice.
I choose to combat the fear.
What do you choose?