I don’t have any kids yet that I know of, ha ha, bad joke. But I fear that I am a victim of pre-partum depression, a mental health condition where the parent’s mind is blown to pieces by the thought of how depressing life will be with and for the child who will eventually be birthed. Only problem is that my wife isn’t pregnant. No, the child isn’t with another women; it hasn’t been conceived at all. Or maybe G-d has conceived of the child (thought about her or him?), but I haven’t actively participated in the process. That is, there is no potential child about whom I should be depressed.
But I fear it anyway, and this thought nearly crushes me on a daily basis. My wife desperately believes that she wants to enjoy all that pregnancy has to offer, and her eagerness is unrelenting. However, I am scared senseless. The reasons are plentiful, and well documented throughout the ages by philosophy and pages of newspapers: there are already so many unloved kids in this awful world who need good homes; the cost and responsibility of raising children; lack of interest from my spouse once the child is born; the stress of the whole occasion. Really it goes on and on. There’s a difference between not wanting to be a father, and dreading and despising the idea of being a father. This is not simply worry or apprehension about the future, this is utter disgust for the idea that someone will call me “dad”. I fear that day.
I even fear for the child’s soul. What if the kid is born, and ends up going to hell?
Are these really all that selfish? Or am I just not the fathering type? I like kids, but I like to be able to give them back to their parent.
So here I am, everyday fearing the devastating possibility that one day I will have to choose between giving up my marriage, or having a child with my wife (same thing really?). I guess I hope I’m only shooting blanks.