Fears While Watching Other's Babies

A few months ago I babysat for a friend whose baby was born less than two months before Isabella. While we were both pregnant, we talked about baby names, watching our children grow up together, and the discomforts of growing a child. Now, he's a toddler. When I saw him in June he was walking, using word approximations, climbing stairs with no fear, and was interested in everything. Spending time alone with him was a delight and exhausting. After only a few hours I felt an unexpected seed of doubt in myself; am I able to mother a living child?

One of the aspects of bereaved motherhood that hits me at unexpected times is that, although I'm a mother, I don't have the experience of raising a child. When faced with caring for a friend's child, I often feel completely unprepared and out of my league. When I babysat in high school and college, I don't remember feeling the same level of responsibility or terror that I would mess up.

I think some of the feelings are linked to the sense of being an impostor. Again, I'm a mother yet have none of the experience I expect mothers to have. That day in particular I felt clueless about how to handle the mundane decisions. I thought I should know - How many blueberries are too many? Will he be okay if he puts this dog bone in his mouth? How can you tell if you put enough sunscreen on a child? 

Underneath all the questions is the fear - What if he dies while I'm watching him? There is no reason to think this would actually happen, but it crosses my mind every time I'm in charge of someone else's child. 

Even though I know that I did nothing to cause Isabella's death, part of me still feels like it was my fault. I should have been able to protect her or have known that she was in danger. If was was unable to keep my own child from death, what kind of judge am I of other children's safety?

When I'm honest with myself I know that, of course, I will be able to mother a living child if we ever have the opportunity. From what I've heard, you never feel adequately prepared and constantly make it up as you go along. Without a doubt, I would happily trade the weariness of grief for the exhaustion of raising a child. Since raising a child is fatiguing, it's a joy to give friends a break and spend time with their babies, even considering my own fears.