The new Reign

hopeful
hopeful
Sep 7, 2018 · 4 min read

I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby i never imagined would exist. I have a daughter, she’s two and a half and definitely the next ruler of the world. And god is she excited to be a big sister. And not only a big sister, a big sister to a baby girl. Although I’m not sure it’s hit her yet that this new baby will soon be moving in.

I’m nervous. Kind of like new mom nervous where I burden more fear than excitement. I think I’m more nervous about what’s to come. It’s so easy to always assume, new baby, new beginnings. But I just walked away from a broken family. A broken family that once started with such optimism and ended with utter disappointment.

Am i wrong for feeling that way? I love her already, this new baby, so much. But for being merely a heartbeat within my abdomen, she sure does scare me. As my oldest continues to grow, and I think back to every small mistake I made, I begin to add it all up in my head and I cant help but think; Am I ruining her? Am I creating her to be just like me? Broken and damaged. The thought floods my mind more times than I can ignore. And now, two little girls. Two little girls that count on their mom to be that strong, willful, optimistic role model. But I for certain, am not.

I think everyone that becomes a parent at one point or another understands the whole ‘Holy shit, I’m literally shaping a whole human’ concept; but when when you first-hand live those dark parts of life, you begin to see what impact every small experience really has on the human mind. Every scary encounter, every feeling of discomfort and hurt feelings. Even the psychological and emotional side of things; because let me tell you sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will hurt and destroy me.

I do my best. Despite what other people think, I definitely torture myself over wanting to be the best mom I can be. I drown in constant ‘what ifs’ and ‘I regrets’. It’s so hard to know how they’ll turn out. Ultimately, I want both of my girls to do whatever creates their happiest version of life. Whether that means, being doctors, being artists, musicians, stay at home moms or just living freely until they find that happiness. I never want them to settle. I never want them take less than what they deserve. I never want them to be me. I want them to have pride, strength and god I want them to know their worth.

All in all, I hope both of my girls lay their heads down for bed every night with the understanding that the love their mom holds for them in her heart is limitless. I want them to feel that comfort of knowing I will always have their back. Without judgement, without expectations. I’ll never let them feel alone. I want them to know how hard I tried, every day, in every moment. Even when I was sick, or stressed, or completely exhausted with life; mommy really tried. If they decide that being a mom is in their future, I want them to have confidence, and have something to go off of. I don’t want to disappoint them.

Maybe this is all part of it. Maybe I really think I’m alone in all of these fears and feelings, but again, I’m just the only one not strong enough to keep it in. Is everyone else ‘winging it’ hoping and praying they raise happy, mentally stable human beings with conscious self-worth and love in their hearts? Something tells me no. Something tells me I’m probably one of a select few that are drowning in anxiety over every move I make. I see so many people who live such a carefree mom life. Their whole mom existence relies strictly on their coffee, messy buns and raising well rounded children. How do they make it look so easy? What in the hell am I doing so wrong? Everyone tells me I’m too soft. That I’m ruining my child by enabling and worrying too much about her happiness over teaching her what’s right.

How is it though, I’m actually in a situation of being wrong because I posses too much compassion. I have too much of a need for my children to feel a bountiful amount of happiness. That fine line. THAT is the hardest part of parenting.

Here we are creating children who will soon grow into functioning citizens, who inevitably will be forced to think for themselves. Hand making human beings that soon won’t be just ‘your baby’, one day they’ll be someones friend, someones coworker, someones love and someones parent. It’s like its all up to these small moments, and wow, that’s pressure. But frankly, it’s a pressure and an anxiety I wouldn’t give up for the world. I would easily rather have countless sleepless nights worrying myself over the contentment of my children than have only myself to fill the space.

I’d truly be nothing if I weren’t a mom.