On the surface, my fears are mushrooms, butterflies, and moths. Those things are so freaking creepy.
But on the deeper level, my fear is being the kind of mother that I had. I tell my son all of the time how great he is. I tell him that I love him. I tell him that he can be anything he wants. I want my son to know that his mom will always love him. Because I never got those things from my mom. I fear giving my son the same sad childhood that I had.