An Expectant Mother’s Fear

Am I up to this?

This was written in response to The Partnered Pen’s 4th writing prompt: “What does the unknown mean to you and how does it play a role in your life?” Thank you Katrina Nutter for the suggestion.

The wedding was a couple of weeks before my 23rd birthday. I had mononucleosis, so the ceremony was short. That way I could sit before my legs grew too weak.

About a year later I discovered half my husband’s family spent the wedding thinking I had a bun in the oven. It makes sense. We were engaged all of three weeks and quickly married in a garden ceremony at our home.

The truth was simpler. We shared a quirk of personality. When we made a decision, we wanted to get on with it. Without a reason to wait, we didn’t see the point and moved full speed ahead.

This meant that while I was on bed rest per my doctor’s orders, I planned the wedding. It was going to be a simple ceremony. Holding it in our garden meant there was no need to get a reservation anywhere, and it seemed a no brainer. We proceeded.

In retrospect, it sounds dumb. There was no need to rush. We were young and wanted what we wanted. We paid for the whole thing so there was no one to suggest otherwise.

Getting married without a long engagement meant we didn’t have the conversations couples should have before tying the knot. We dated four months before the engagement so there were many topics we hadn’t covered in depth.

One of those things was when or if we planned to have children. Due to a struggle with my oral birth control, my first pregnancy was a surprise. We’d been married a year and a half. Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t bad news.

My husband was really excited. The feeling that overwhelmed me, from head to toe, was fear. Not unhappiness about the coming baby. Fear that I wasn’t up to the task of being 100% responsible for another living, breathing person. There was too much unknown for me not to be freaked out.

My husband was helpful. He thought everything was going to be perfect. He had a vision of a wonderful life. The three of us, living a dream. He saw the future in terms of teaching a child to ride a bike for the first time. He saw our child opening presents, surrounded by our extended family.

I wasn’t put off by the visions of endless diaper changes. It was the idea that I would be the only thing between my child and some horrible trauma. Or physical harm. Oh yeah, me and my husband, but I was the one feeling it. He didn’t seem to be.

It was the unknown. It loomed over our future. I don’t know about you, but when I get hit in the face with an unknown future, I jump start research mode.

“What to Expect When You are Expecting” by Heidi Murkoff and Sharon Mazel was my bible at that point. I read every word. Then I went back and read whatever section seemed applicable to my moment in time. I know I bought other books, but my memory is full of that one.

I hyper-focused on the pregnancy. Somehow in all of this, I realized later, I didn’t focus on what would happen when the baby showed up. I thought I was researching and preparing.

In reality, I was avoiding my fear of the greater unknown. I didn’t have room in my brain to focus on childbirth and being 100% responsible for another human. My husband was positive and seemed to have zero fear about all the things that we didn’t know.

Fast forward to childbirth. I had no time to be afraid of the unknown. I was mission focused. This was happening. It was going down. It was going down NOW.

My husband was over the moon. Not only was his freaking baby being born at any moment, but his wife was also surrounded by all kinds of high tech. He asked the nurses and the anesthesiologist how the machinery worked.

Of course, he did. He is an electrical engineer. It would be a crime against nature not to ask. They let him push a button on one of them. I don’t remember what that was about but it made him happy.

There were various boxes with lights, buzzers, and buttons. Among them, there was a machine that seemed to handle the IV. There was also a machine connected to my internal monitor. He learned not to inform me that a contraction was coming.

The machine showed what was happening inside my body. Trust me, I knew when a contraction was happening. By the time he saw that it was starting to build, I was in full-fledged “LEAVE ME ALONE.”

Once the action was over, the medical personnel left us alone with our infant. I remember exhaustion. I remember feeling overwhelmed with love. And I remember my husband holding our daughter with a look of wonder on his face.

I don’t remember fear. All the things I had been afraid of were still to come. The responsibility for all of it was present and accounted for and I didn’t fear it any longer. Looking at my infant daughter, everything felt amazing.

Well, not everything. I had just given birth. I needed food, sleep, and a shower. The unknown just didn’t seem so scary anymore. Boy, I had no idea.

My daughter has since grown up. Six months ago, she had her first baby. If she asks me what is to come, I will be honest.

I will say, “No need to fear the unknown. You’ve got this.”

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