Why I Felt Intense Anxiety About Having a Daughter

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When I discovered I was expecting a daughter, I was initially overwhelmed with a desire to rectify the mistakes of the past. I envisioned an ideal mother-daughter bond that I had never experienced and promised my little girl that our relationship would be everything I wished for. However, this excitement was soon overshadowed by an intense wave of anxiety. I worried: What if I ended up repeating the same mistakes as my mother? What if my daughter grew to resent me? What if one day she chose to stop communicating with me altogether?

During my pregnancy, I found myself grappling with mental health challenges I never anticipated. The arrival of my baby triggered memories of my own childhood trauma, and having a daughter seemed to amplify those feelings. In my family, the history of mother-daughter relationships has not been encouraging; each daughter seemed to inherit and repeat the patterns of the previous generation.

When I first held my daughter, I was flooded with an overwhelming sense of love. Surely, I thought, this love would ensure I would never hurt her as my mother had hurt me. But the haunting fear of repeating the cycle lingered. Perhaps my mother experienced the same feelings of love when I was born, only to falter later. Would I follow the same path? Was this fate unavoidable?

In her first year, my daughter and I were inseparable. She was a true “mommy’s girl,” and our bond was incredibly tight. However, as she began to develop her own preferences, she seemed to gravitate more towards her dad. While it was heartwarming to see their connection, it also stung. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had realized I wasn’t good enough for her. Was this her way of saying I was just like my mother?

I lovingly refer to her as a “daddy’s girl,” and I genuinely cherish the strong relationship they have. It brings immense joy to my husband, who has cerebral palsy and was apprehensive about becoming a parent due to his unique circumstances. Yet, even though I feel a rush of happiness when I see them together, a hint of sadness creeps in, followed by guilt. I chastise myself, thinking, “I shouldn’t feel this way.”

I had placed unrealistic expectations on my daughter, hoping she would help me heal the wounds of my past. I’ve come to understand that this was misguided. I cannot correct the past, nor should I expect my little girl to bear that burden. It’s my responsibility to nurture my inner child, not hers. I sought the relationship I missed out on with my own mother, rather than considering what my daughter truly needs.

I’ve discussed my feelings with my husband, and we both agreed that even if I were my daughter’s favorite, I would still have worries about our bond. If we had the connection I longed for with my mother, I would be fearful of ruining it. The truth is, my anxiety remains, no matter the nature of our relationship.

I’m learning to focus on the positives instead of fixating on what’s lacking. Although my daughter may prefer her dad, it signifies that she feels safe enough to express her preferences. I never had that freedom as a child, so this indicates I must be doing something right. She loves me, and I love her, which we communicate daily. Thankfully, she’ll never have to question my love for her.

While our relationship may not mirror the idealized version I envisioned while pregnant, it is still beautiful in its own right. We share a bond where affection is expressed openly, free from rejection or inconsistency. It is built on respect, recognizing her as an individual with her own agency and autonomy.

In worrying that we didn’t possess the mother-daughter relationship I always dreamed of, I overlooked the many ways I’m providing her with the love and support I lacked. While it may not align with my childhood desires, the connection we do share is richer and more meaningful than anything I could have imagined. It’s the relationship my daughter truly needs.

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In conclusion, while my journey as a mother has been peppered with anxiety and self-doubt, it’s also filled with love and growth. I’m learning to embrace the unique relationship I have with my daughter, one that may not resemble my own childhood but is beautiful and fulfilling in its own way.


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