Terrified to be a Mother

My wife, Katie, has spent the greater part of her adult life making me awesome. Left to my own designs, I’m just a middle-aged fat man...but with Katie by my side, I somehow become a funny, fabulous dad who rules the universe!

When we got married, Katie told me clearly she didn’t want kids. Truth be told, she didn’t even want to get married. But after four years of wearing her down, she finally said yes.

When we found out she was pregnant, she was absolutely terrified to be a mother. But when she held Isaac for the first time, she was transformed into one. And every amazing thing about our kids squarely comes from her, despite my best efforts to make them utterly dysfunctional!

Katie is our guest blogger today, and here is her story:

“This is not happening!  I don’t know how I got here… (well, actually I do know)…but I can’t be a MOTHER!”

That was my reaction when I saw the little pink plus sign on the pregnancy test pee-stick.

I wasn't fit to be a mother. 

And as the panic sunk in, I vividly remembered the day I was fired from the one babysitting gig I had as a teenager and they told me “you’re just not a good fit for us, Katie”.

I’m not a good fit for anyone!

I don’t know how to talk to kids or how to care for a baby.

Heck, I had never even held a baby.

I didn’t even like kids. 

But this baby was already along for the ride and in about seven months, I was going to have to face the music, crib music, baby mobiles…I hate that music!

I can’t do this.   

I started to weep and grieve.

How can a person who is so dysfunctional be trusted with a baby? 

Why wouldn’t God give this baby to someone like my friend, Tonya, who loves kids and would cherish the opportunity to be a mother?

Why me when he knows how crazy I am? 

I can’t be trusted with a baby. I’m too injured from my own upbringing to be a parent.  What if I turn out like them? 

I don’t know how to be a good mother.

I’ll never forget the day that someone turned to me and said, “Katie, you’re so maternal.” I laughed in their face. Maternal was not a word I would use to describe myself.

And now, three kids later, I still get scared out of my mind. And I often feel like that broken, unworthy woman weeping on the bathroom floor clutching my first pregnancy test.

But somehow, despite the fear of failing as a parent, love has molded me into a mom.

I faced the terror with intention.

I put practices into my life to avoid passing on dysfunction.

I gleaned every bit of information I could get from good mothers who were further ahead on the journey.

And  then, on the day of my son’s birth, I reached out a shaky hand and held a baby for the very first time.