On Finishing the First Draft

I've been writing a book.  I was scared to tell anyone for the first couple months because if I failed at becoming a published author then everyone would know of my failure.  And then I realized that was stupid.  Even if I fail at becoming published at least everyone would know that I went for my dream.  More especially, my girls would know that I went for my dream.
Quick background on me.  I remember in second grade all the kids wanting to be doctors, teachers, astronauts, and I kept thinking, "I don't want any of that."  Around sixth grade I found my true love of history when Miss Bybee taught us about Pompeii.  I was hooked and from that moment on I knew what I wanted to learn.  But I didn't know what I wanted to be.  So I did the history thing and got my BA in History.  Then I took it a step further and got my minor in Classics.  So history of Greece and Rome.  With an emphasis in Latin.  Which, let's face it, is basically the history of a good portion of my language.  I love every second of it.  I played with the idea of being an editor and even was promised a big New York internship (my dad has connections)  There were only a couple problems with that.  First, I would only be paid twenty dollars a week.  Second, I got married.  So I changed courses and became wife and eventually mother.  And found my calling.  A few years went by and baby number two was born and I became heart mom.  Being a mother is exhausting.  Being a heart mom just about put me in a coma.  Even after the first really really hard year everything was heart this and heart that.  On the bright side, I found my voice by blogging constantly.  I finally found out that I could write.  Still, heart, heart, heart.  Well, over the last year the heart stuff has mellowed enough that it's been in the back of my mind and I readdressed that 2nd grade question.  Was mom all I wanted to be when I grow up?  The answer was a screaming no.  I wanted more.  I know that sounds awful and don't get me wrong.  My children still are my entire world.  But I needed something all mine.  Something that wasn't kid related, husband related, or heart related.  And I found it.
Writing has become my saving grace over the last few months as I fought my way through the first novel.  I had to get over the self-doubt and the fear of others seeing my project.  And the crazy thing is, in the end it helped me with my role as mommy and wife.  Who knows if it will ever go anywhere but my girls have watched me go for my dream.  They have seen how happy the journey has made me.  I am working hard for this dream to come true and even if I don't reach my goal I will set a new one.  I will obtain my dream.
Anyway, just some random thoughts I thought I'd spill out before doing some editing.  I'm noticing that self-doubt was a major hinderance in the first section of my book.  I've got a lot of work ahead of me now that I have a better feel for what it's like to write a novel.  Wish me luck!