Doubt

Ever since I was a little girl, all I ever wanted to be was a mom. Growing up, I loved to watch my siblings and eventually I started babysitting other families. I loved it. I may not have been the best babysitter but I learned a lot. And I was so excited and ready for my own family.

After Shawn and I were married it didn’t take us long to decide that we were ready for kids. And then Addie joined our family and my dreams came true. I was a mom.

Being a mom came easy to me. Sure there were hard days and frustrating times, but it felt like I was made to be a mom. I had natural instinct about what was going on with her.

Then came Raemee. Everyone said two kids was hard. But I figured it out and it didn’t seem so bad. And then Beckett. Everyone said three kids was rough. It didn’t take long for us to fall into a routine. Being a mom was easy. I was able to make decisions and I knew what to do for my kids.

So why do I question everything I do as a mom now that Beckett has this disease? Why do I doubt every decision? Why does every little thing scare me?

My confidence has shattered. My ego has cracked. I find myself scared to make any decision, fearing I’m messing up. I kick myself all the time that I didn’t pay close enough attention to his skin color before he was diagnosed. I’m angry at myself that I couldn’t see just how distended he was before he needed his belly drained. I don’t trust myself.

I am like that fourteen year old again, not doing a very good job but wanting so desperately to be enough. To be good enough. To be trusted to do the right thing.

I remember a couple months before Beckett was born visiting my best friend in the hospital where her newborn daughter was having a hard time and was in the NICU. I remember how scared I was for her and how strong she was. I remember saying to her, “I could never do this. I could never be the mom to a sick kid.” And then just a few short months later here I am.

There is no manual. There is no guidebook. There is nothing but myself, and my fervent desire to be a good mom, a great mom. I have to let go of my failures. I have to learn. I have to trust. Trust myself, that I am good enough. That I can do this. I can be a mom and a dang good one. Because I’m trying and because I care.

And there are others who trust me too. I can see it. Our doctors trust me. My husband trusts me. My girls trust me. And my beautiful baby boy trusts me. But most of all, my God trusts me. So I will trust in Him and let go. Let go of the fear and the pain and the doubt. I will piece back together my confidence. It’ll take time. It’ll be hard. And I’ll cry a lot. But I was born to do this.