As much as I love kids, for as long as I can remember, I’ve never dreamed about raising a mini-me. I’ve never wondered what it would be like to teach him to love God, his wife, and Chelsea FC (in that order). I’ve always wanted a small family, and I’ve always wanted daughters.
I never really had an answer when people asked why. I think deep down I’ve always felt like I wasn’t supposed to have one, but telling people “I just know” when they asked why I was so sure I’d only have girls didn’t seem to cut it. It’s not like I wanted a son, but I knew God was only going to give me daughters, I didn’t even want one.
It’s also not because I felt I’d be a terrible father to a son. My dad is GREAT. I’ve learned so much from him. He may not be a perfect dad (even though he’s really close), but I’m pretty sure he’s done a good enough job that I simply had to replicate it (with certain minor adjustments) & I’d raise a boy I was proud of. So that’s not it either.
Tonight I realized it was fear. The reason I never wanted a son was because I was afraid of having to raise me.
That being said, does this epiphany mean I want a son now?
Lol. No.
This resonates with me. Before the wedding, I was so excited to procreate. I can’t even map where the fear came from. I worry about the weirdest things (my eyesight, feeding, living) in relation to child bearing and rearing. Husband Guy is trying to help me work it out, but I’m so scared…