Dear Fear...

We all have fearful thoughts when we are faced with being pregnant, thing is, they’re not always the same fear for every woman.

Some women are afraid they won’t be a good mother or they’ll hate all that time at home alone. Others are petrified about the lack of sleep, of dropping their baby on it’s head or accidentally doing something in it’s formative years that will scar them for life.

Of course I’m aware of the possible reality of all those things, but they don’t really get me thinking. I’m not even worried about daily injections anymore. However I do have a sneaky and noisy fear that has long outstayed it’s welcome. (Pretty sure I didn’t invite it in the first place.)

My personal little monster is money. Or lack thereof to be precise and I’m trying so hard to figure out where it came from. I’ve never been properly broke and I save my money regularly. Sure, we didn’t have loads of spare cash when I was growing up but I had a beautifully balanced childhood and got everything a little child needs - despite what her tiny little ego might have been telling her at the time.  No, I did not have the Barbie spa and campervan that my primary school friend had. (Considering I accidentally snapped Barbie’s head off her neck I think that was a pretty wise non-investment on my parent’s behalf.)

I’m not even exactly sure what I’m afraid of. I don’t live a life of out of control extravagance. I consider a morning coffee my little life luxury and the $3 one litre sorbolene cream from the chemist is the most effective and pleasant moisturiser I’ve ever used. Going without designer clothes and extreme high heels is not an issue for me, and at the end of the day my core belief is that the universe will always provide.

Despite all of this I find myself in an anxious warp when I consider life with baby and how it all works. Yes, the reality is that I won’t have an income and the reliance will be more on James. But we’re both smart and we can manage our spending. So I send myself searching deeper for the true meaning…and I have a sneaking suspicion my fear has more to do with life after that first year or so with baby.

See, I think I will love being a mum. I think I will love sunny mornings staring at little one and even grow to cope with the delirium attached to it. I think I will adapt to all of that in a way that feeds my soul and here lies my conundrum. What if I don’t want to go back to work? Like, ever. What if being a mother, a woman in her element becomes such a passion for me that I want to continue it full-time? In today’s Western society I feel like that’s become a luxury that only the really wealthy can afford. And that seems wrong to me.

We’ve fought over many decades for the right to be a career woman, a woman of the world, and because so many intelligent, capable women have taken their rightful place in the workings of our society, without sending their husbands home to care for the kids, we now have a two parent working society that either relies on access to decent childcare (still at a cost) or a network of generous and caring grandparents and family members. So now we spend at a rate of two income families and the living costs respond.

I’m sure over time that I will want to be back in the mix of things, to be working and feeling like a part of the big wheel again. But I’d like that to be my choice. Not the choice of our rent payment or our grocery bill.

My fear is being forced back to work when I’m not ready because we feel so strapped for cash and we’re living stressed. Maybe that’s a reality I have to accept? Except, if experience has taught me that everything happens for a reason, we create our own circumstances and that you always get what you need then it just doesn’t make sense that this be my overriding thought when it comes to having a baby.

Maybe my fear exists as a preparation, as a premonition if you will of what’s to come. Or maybe it’s a little red flag that tells me I need to figure out how to flip the system so that I can have the choice to be at home when the time comes.

In any case it’s still just a fear, a spent force on something that may or may not happen in the future. Isn’t that all they ever are? The only REALITY that is current to me is that I can prepare all I like and that still won’t be a guarantee that things will ‘go to plan’.

How do we deal with these fears that may or may not become our reality somewhere down the track?

Hear them, look at them and then tell them to stop.

When we’re freaking out about whether we’ll be good enough, or if we’ll be able to cope, I think we need to take a deep breath in and give that fear a little marching order. Yeah, I hear you. Yeah, I get that this might be something I have to deal with in the future. But until you can prove yourself as a reality I’m not going to spend my creation energy on you.

We’re always going to come across fears from time to time. They’re helpful when there’s something more we need to see in a situation. They become unhelpful when we let them override our instinct, our intuition and our desire to wish for something more. We women are far too resourceful and far too capable to become victim to our fears.

So -

Dear Fear,

I understand you want me to worry about not having enough money and being forced to go back to work when I’m not ready. Thing is, you haven’t factored in that maybe I’ll want to go back to work, or by that time maybe I’ll be able to work from home – or even my lucky number guessing when James buys a lotto ticket may have finally paid off.

So, until you can get all your facts straight and actually prove that’s how my life is, I’m afraid I can’t help you. I actually don’t have the time. I’m currently busy enjoying working and trying to make babies.

Maybe try someone else?

Love Erin