I am terrified of losing myself as a mother. Being eaten alive from the inside.
Dear friend from grad school became a mom and then I lost her. First making sure I attended her baby shower at an elegant tea room. Iced me out and became BFFs with a mutual friend with a baby. Insisted I did nothing at all, while she never contacted me again. I showed her though. Removed her as a friend on social media. Fuck yeah.
I had close friends that were either inappropriately close to their kids, setting them up to be narcissists, or their kids were the prison that kept them tethered to a narcissist. No wonder I am afraid.
Mothers seem like this walking anxiety attack of fears, lack of sleep, loneliness. One of the times in our lives we have no clue who we are anymore and society is like, “Yeah good you are a mom now. You will never love/fuck/create/breathe again without the constant thought that your baby is okay.”
Only the most emotionally immature people seem to have babies. The mote ignorant, the more the kids.
Plus it makes the one giving birth super reliant on the father. Forever needing him in some way. Giving great excuses to stay in bs marriages.
None of this is me.
I am emotionally mature.
My marriage blows my mind.
Sex and intimacy are deeply important to me. Creation is my breath.
This is who I am, without a baby.
I have no clue what person is waiting for me on the other side.
The closer I get, the more I wonder if I am just going to join the faceless sea of people guilty for working (or doing anything else), never feeling they are doing it “right.”
We are not pregnant though our journey is bringing us closer.
My fears:
What if my tits turn into one flat mega boob continent?
What if this stubborn fat pocket on my stomach becomes a mass of great proportions and never goes away?
What if I want another gf/boyfriend/partner and they don’t want to be a part of me raising my kid, or they suck at loving kids, so I lose them?
What if I really really really love being a mom. My chest my breasts my uterus tingle at this thought.
What if it is better then I imagined. What if I never have one conversation with my kid about what I had to give up, to love them. The kid never guilty for ruining my life.
What if the kid never becomes parentified, and I keep my partner as my partner.
What if I can keep everything I love. It just morphs into a new more beautiful form.
Well that would be freaking fantastic.