I’ve been basically on my own since leaving home at 18 to head off to college. My mom said, “ok, you’re a big girl now, you can take care of yourself” and set me free to manage my time and expenses on my own.

That being said, she did pay for the bulk of college through a promise fund that I just had to show admissions each year, so I was really only responsible for coming up with cash to pay for fees, books, etc. And the first year I lived in the dorms, so it wasn’t until the second year that I had to also figure out rent and grocery money.

But in general it was a great learning experience for a fledgling learning to fly on her own. And I’ve been one of the lucky ones who has managed to continue flying alone and never been forced to move back home.

The reason I share this is, I’ve felt pretty darn independent for a large portion of my life, and with the confidence gained, have been pretty comfortable in this self-sufficiency.

To boot I moved away, far far away, from home. I live in PA while she’s back in TX, so I only see family once a year. I’ve accomplished all the normal adult things that are supposed to make you feel all grown up (get a real job, get married, buy a house, etc.). And mom has mostly been an ear to listen and the occasional word of wisdom to push me in the right direction.

And yet all of a sudden, when thinking about introducing my own little fledgling into the world, my instinct is to run to mommy. I keep thinking, well once I have the baby, mom will be there to show me what to do, make sure I’m doing things right.. it’s the oddest thing. I feel utterly at a loss to think that I might be competent to manage a baby on my own.

It’s also not like I don’t have family here. Eric’s family is all here, his youngest brother went through this about two years ago, and Eric’s parents are close by and more than willing to help and teach.

But I want my mommy. I don’t know the last time that I just really wanted my mom, to give me that boost of confidence and tell me it’s all going to be alright.

I feel like I’ve stepped back in time to my own childhood, which seems counterproductive. But after hearing so many stories of people being scared of their own baby, and knowing myself how much I dislike holding other people’s newborn babies because I’m terrified I’ll break it, it seems like the best decision is to just hand all the responsibility off to someone who I know will get the job done (at least for a week before I have to pick up my adultness again). She raised me, right, and I kinda like me.