I worry that I am not worrying enough.
For example, I worry that one of these days one of my girls is going to climb up on the vanity in the bathroom, lose her balance, and fall towards the window. The window will break, and my child will fall two stories and land on jagged glass, bleeding out well before the ambulance can get to us.
Mothers have vivid imaginations where horrible accidents are concerned.
As long as I worry about this, I feel like it’s less likely to happen. (coupled with the fact that they’re forbidden to climb all over the vanity) But what about all the things that I haven’t predicted and am therefore not worrying about? I don’t want to spend all day thinking of ways that my kids could kill and/or maim themselves. Irrationally I feel that my worrying protects them in some superstitious sense, so I should worry more.
I never feared not having children because I decided at an early age that one way or another I would find a person or two to raise as my own, whatever it took.
I discussed adoption and/or fostering in the event of fertility difficulties with my huband before he became my fiance. Had I not found a spouse, I could see myself making the difficult decision a friend of mine is facing - to become a single parent. That’s how much I’ve wanted children. Always.