Have you ever been scared to do something because you're pretty sure you're going to mess it up somehow? Like baking a cake from scratch or wielding a tattoo gun, motherhood presents a whole slew of opportunities for you to screw up.
From my excessive reading, I've learned that no matter how flawless a new mother wants to be, she will experience imperfection at one point or another. The terror, however, derives from the simple truth that children appear to be reflections of their parents. If a toddler pitches fits incessantly, people will automatically think he's not disciplined properly. If a 6-month-old baby isn't sleeping through the night, we may wonder if her sleep habits weren't controlled enough. My greatest fear is that some problem will present itself upon my daughter's birth and I will wonder if it's my fault.
On Monday, I visited my doctor and got an antibody screening for good measure. As it turns out, I'm Rh negative and they wanted to make sure my body wasn't essentially attacking my baby's blood supply. Scary, right? As it turns out, all is well and both of us are just fine, but I couldn't help but wonder if I was somehow causing her harm all week.
Despite the fact that I have absolutely no control over my blood type, that didn't stop me from feeling that I might be doing something wrong. If you've ever had a baby and felt this way, then you probably heard a number of people tell you that "everything is and will be fine. You can't control what happens... blah blah blah."
My opinion on the subject: Just because a new mother expresses fear, that doesn't make her irrational. It's how we express an overwhelming desire for our children to be healthy, happy and well-adjusted.
When I first found out I was pregnant, I felt awful because I had recently celebrated my 21st birthday with expectable levels of abandon. I remember going to my OB's office and telling her, "I drank alcohol during the first few weeks of my pregnancy. I just had no idea." I think I asked questions about whether or not I may have accidentally condemned my baby to deformity. She reassured me that many women who aren't consciously trying to conceive drink alcohol during the early weeks of their pregnancy. There's nothing you can do about it except move forward.
I know I'm going to mess up. I know that I'll probably scratch the baby or bonk her head at some point. I know I may give her some type of food that upsets her stomach. I know she might not walk at the exact number of months that she's expected to and I'll blame myself. Heck, I'm just hoping to conquer the terrible animal that appears to be breastfeeding.
As long as my daughter isn't lying on her back someday telling a psychiatrist that she blames me for any and all failures in her life, I think I'll survive this whole parenting thing.
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