I'm scared.

I'm scared of the child birth to come.

I'm scared of having a baby.

I'm scared of taking care of a baby.

I'm scared of not being a good enough mom.

I'm scared you won't love him.

I'm scared you won't like him.

I'm scared you won't even care about him.

I'm scared he won't like you and give up having much to do with you, just as I gave up on having much to do with my dad.

I'm scared you're turning into how you always described your father to me.

I'm scared I'll relive my childhood, but this time in my mom's place of protecting the children.

I'm scared I made the wrong choice of not going through with the abortion.

I'm scared I made the wrong choice of not having kids sooner, before you became so cynical.

I'm scared that's been my fault from the beginning.

I'm scared you're slowly getting tired of me.

I'm scared you no longer like me.

I'm scared you've become complacent with me.

I'm scared you think you can do or say whatever you want to me.

I'm scared that's true.

I'm scared I did something wrong somewhere along the way to let that happen.

I'm scared our son will imitate this and learn to disrespect women and tear them down.

I'm scared he'll find it amusing to make women flinch.

I'm scared of everything to come when June arrives.

I'm scared to even tell you all of this.

I'm scared to hurt you.

I'm scared to lose you.

I don't want to be scared.

I want to enjoy and look forward to having our first son together.