Motherhood – Emotions Series – Fear
Our fear of danger lets us anticipate threats to our safety.
Being a mother can be scary. I remember being worried about many things since I found out I was first pregnant. Would I be a good mom, would he turn out to be a good person? Would I be able to keep him safe and fed? What about food poisoning? And putting fingers in power sockets? It gets freezing cold here – will I be able to keep him warm? Once he was born, his well being became incredibly significant and no matter how tired I was, there was always a radar turned on, scanning for safety.
And it was not just worrying out of my imagination. On the second night, my first baby was born, my nightmares came true. I was still in the hospital, breastfeeding him. Suddenly, my baby yells and is all blue. I lift him quickly, and he started crying, quickly returning to his colour. But I didn’t see that; I just saw the blue. Until today, I close my eyes, and I can see that blue. I ran for help and found a nurse. She refused to help, telling me I had to speak in the same dialect as her and telling that it was a lie, the baby was not blue. I was angry as never before.
The fear of losing my baby turned into anger against this woman. For the first time, I knew: I would do whatever necessary to save my son. I never felt as much power in my body, and yet so powerless. Fortunately, someone else showed up, who cared and checked the baby was fine. He was learning to drink. I was devastated and in a panic: forget about being a good mother. Would I even be able to keep him alive before going home…?
Fear, though, brought me something impressive though: a direct and clear channel to my intuition. Very quickly, I started knowing what my baby wanted and how to deliver it to him. If you asked me how I knew you, I wouldn’t have an answer for you, I just knew it. And he thrived. Bit by bit, the fear has been tamed for the most part. It is still there, and sometimes it bursts again with new events. But it guides me forward, it shows me what can happen and makes me move and do something about it.
Now that our second boy is here, so is the enhanced fear. In the beginning, I was freezing and leaning on my husband’s great help and presence. Is there any way I can be taking care of both of them? How can the logistics work during the day? Will they both be crying at the same time? Who do I tend to first? What if they become traumatised by my incompetence?
And then I recognised my companion. Fear was asking for attention again. Finally, I switched on that drive to do things again and to listen to my baby uniquely. It feels so much better now, knowing I can rely on my intuition and love my boys. The answers will come.
Fear has kept me on my toes. Love has kept me walking.