I hate when people push their fears onto me. I have been getting this a lot lately. I am pregnant with my third baby, and people have been panicking on my behalf like they are the ones giving birth to this tiny human, even though I have the Buddha belly and hormone spike to prove otherwise.
“How are you going to do it?”
“How will you leave the house with three under four?”
Then said mom muses out loud, “I mean, if you decide you want help, you can always hire someone.” Geez, thanks. Also, thanks for offering to spend my money. Appreciate it.
Thought: Well I wasn’t worried about those things, at least those particular things…but thanks for surfacing those fears.
People tend to project their fears onto you and like verbal diarrhea they spit fire at you, not the most encouraging questions.
And look, I have enough fears. I promise I don’t lack in the anxiety department. I mean, I am the mother that checks on my kids before I go to bed each night even though I have two monitors for each of their rooms. I tiptoe in, sneaking as best as I can, hoping the carpet will create a soft sponge-like effect on my often-heavy feet. In my mind, I am ninja-like doing forward rolls and high kicks—all while making no sounds. In reality, I may be jerking and creaking with each step. I sneak in at night to take a whiff, make sure no one dirtied her diaper and is sleeping in it.
Because: my babies not feeling comfortable, when I could possibly prevent it, is something I do think about, a lot.
While I am in there, I pull a blanket over my oldest. I wake her up at times, but she’s used to seeing me at this point. She gives me a weary look, as I say “It’s only mommy go back to bed.” And she does, while I stroke her head.
Trust me, if you are thinking about your children’s potential poopy diapers to the point where you risk waking them on a nightly basis— you are a worrier. Bringing a new life into this world, into this house, will be a big change for my two children. I fear my 18-month-old who has no idea what is going on, will feel replaced when I cradle the new baby into my arms. I dread to be away when I give birth because that will be the longest I’ve ever been away from my littlest. So yes, I have fears, but they are different from your worries.
Instead, if you want to be helpful or feel compelled to say something, tell me:
“You got this mama. You will be great.”
“Three kids means three times the love.”
“Three healthy kids, what a blessing!”
So please, let’s not push our fears onto each other. If we must project, let’s push encouragement instead. As mothers, as women, we can do anything. And you know why? Because once it happens, we have no choice but to make it our beautiful, messy, imperfect new normal.
Our new normal we would never trade back for anything, ever.