Parental Fears.

Another MB has a thread about Parental Fears in which members post their fears about having children.

Most of the posts are about how/who their children will turn out to be, or whether they will survive.

I have none of those fears. I have only one fear: Will I ever have children??? One of my biggest wants is to have children. I don’t fear them being dumb because I don’t think they will be. And even if they are, I don’t care. I’ll love them all the same. I’ll love them and be for happy for their existence no matter what.

This makes now at least three Dopers that I know also read/post on that board…

I am posting with an entirely different perspective, as my kids are 21 and almost 18. I never had fears before I had them, about how they would turn out (and it’s probably a good thing, in terms of the first-born anyway, that I couldn’t see into the future).

But I worry every day about my 17 year old. Don’t get me wrong, he’s an amazing kid, very responsible. I am afraid when he gets in the car. I am afraid he won’t make it to work four miles away. I am afraid for his future. All of these fears remain unexpressed. He’ll never know about them. A friend tells me she still has the same fears about her 25 year old, very responsible, son.

It’s the love, really. I could have never imagine unconditional love before them.

If you do have kids, print out this post and read it when they’re running around screeching and fighting because they all want the same toy, you’ll need it. We need a : pulling out hair smiley :

Of course, it is very rewarding, my kids crack me up on a regular basis. Good luck, I hope you do have some.

You can have mine. Just let me know.

I’m afraid if I have another one, I might deprive my son of a mother and my husband of a wife. My doctor says I should be fine and I know intellectually that I should be fine, but then again, I knew intellectually that I should have been fine when I had eclampsia the first time and it happened anyway, even though there was no sign of it coming until 12 hours before delivery.

I worry that I won’t be good enough or trusting enough or tough enough on my kid.

And on a lighter note, I worry that my son will try to brush his ass with a toothbrush again like he did day before yesterday. I only turned away for one second while he was brushing his teeth and when I turned back, he was dancing around happily, humming and scrubbing between his ass cheeks.

I just crawled back into my chair because I fell out of it, but I still have the giggles.

After I had kids, two scary things happened.

My baby sister, who has always been an independent wonderful woman, was discovered to be a dysfunctional alcoholic in an abusive relationship. She lost her good job - plus the next two - and nearly killed herself with booze. I worry that my children will not escape those sorts of demons of abuse, mental and physical health issues.

My other sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. I became frightened I would not live to get my children to adulthood.

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.

Along with the worthy parent worries listed here, I worry about a nightmare that I had several years ago. In the dream, I was working on the roof, and my (now middle boy) walks from across the street, holding some screws in his hand to give to me. “here mama, I help” he said, and a semi barrels through the street and runs him over. I saw his body tumble under the wheels, and heard the bones crunch. I scares me to this day, 8 years later.

I realize it’s irrational, but it was too real of a dream, and keeps me super vigilant in the parking lots.

laughing hysterically

I think I might be worried that this is not the first time he’s done this, only the first time you’ve caught him at it! :smiley:

I worry about everything when it comes to my son, but mostly about his disappointment. My latest worry is that he won’t have anyone to go trick or treating with, that all his friends will be paired off already.

It’s weird what people worry about when it comes to kids, I know.

My main concern is being a shitty parent. I think I have every chance to be.

I worry that my children won’t understand who I am.

I’m worried that my kids won’t trust me.

(I plan to adopt. Probably my children will be beyond the infant/toddler stage when we first meet. Maybe my children are alive in the world already, somewhere, right now. :eek:)

I worry that my love won’t be enough for them to find peace.

Find solace in the fact that it was actually HIS toothbrush and not another family member’s.

This might be the funniest thing I’ll read today. :stuck_out_tongue:

I do worry that I’ll be like my Dad.

I want to just let my kids make their own mistakes and learn from them. I want them to be who they want to be. But I’ll probably want them to be who I want them to be.

And as if to get my brain in even more of a twist: Wanting them to be who they want to be IS wanting them to be who I want them to be, which is who they want to be!

ARGHH!

Anyway. I think you know what I mean: Which is that I hope I won’t ask them why they don’t have a girlfriend, aren’t saving money, don’t leave the job that’s making them miserable.

Perhaps I should badger them about these things? Perhaps my dad is doing the right thing… But it puts a wedge between us. I like visiting him a little bit less because of it.

My ex-girlfriend had a son on April 20th of this year, and I found out in June that he wasn’t mine. Even writing about it now, four months later, I’m getting a little tense and nauseated because of the circumstances of his conception and birth, but that protracted scare made me realize that I could handle being a father if I absolutely had to be, and can be convinced to be one if my partner is someone who wants one.

I do, of course, worry that I would suck horribly at it. I think everyone does.

I’m worried that my kids will be normal and stable and productive and I’ll regret having them all the same. Because of the way my life will change.

And I hate myself for being so selfish.

I’ve already forgotten which board. There are two well known ones and both of them I am unable to browse at work due to their content.

Continuing the cycle. I know it probably wasn’t the sole cause, but I was a pain in the ass from the start (health problems from day one, needed surgery at a few months old, needed speech therapy, needed surgery again, needed to be tested for learning disorders, etc). That went a long way to making my mother’s depression much worse. Depression is a learned behavior, so I ended up crazy as well, saw a school therapist on and off from mid-elementary school. Needing to spend gobs of money to drag her teenage daughter to a psychologist just made things worse for mom, which in turn made things worse for me, and so on.

I know that there’s no guarantee that an unstable parent = unstable kids. But if I did have a kid and they turned out like myself or my mom, I’d be pretty devastated.

So for the sake of humanity I’m doing my best to avoid the problem by just not having kids.