What does it feel like to question the decision to have children? This is my personal narrative, and it’s important to note that it may not resonate with everyone.
I meticulously planned my pregnancy, believing I wanted a child so intensely that I married the first person willing to embark on that journey with me. Deep down, I sensed that this was a poor choice, but I convinced myself I could navigate parenthood alongside someone who perhaps wasn’t the right partner for such significant life decisions. My pregnancy was fraught with challenges, including debilitating pain that forced me to step away from work.
Despite everything, the excitement of finally becoming a parent overshadowed my doubts. The biological urge was immense, strong enough to make me overlook the warning signs my former husband constantly displayed. Ironically, I had spent over 27 years declaring my disinterest in having children. I was the fun older cousin and the beloved aunt to my nephews, who often expressed their wish that I could have been their mother. I thought those qualities would seamlessly translate into my new role as a parent. I was mistaken.
While I faced difficulties during my pregnancy, my husband struggled as well. He had a job at the time of our marriage but quit about five months later (or perhaps he was let go; I still don’t know the full story). It wasn’t until about a year after our daughter was born that he found steady employment, only after I confronted him about the financial strain he was causing. He eventually joined the Navy.
My immediate concern was being unable to provide for my daughter financially. I returned to work when she was four months old and managed to regain financial stability, despite my husband being unemployed for most of her early years. Unfortunately, I found myself in precarious financial situations again when she was around 2 ½ years old until she turned 7, and then again from ages 12 to 14. Now, she is 17.
However, my feelings run deeper than financial concerns. While many parents may face financial hardships and not regret having their children, my experience is different. I grapple with the sentiment that I made a mistake in becoming a parent. To clarify, I love my daughter immensely and consider her my greatest achievement. The thought of losing her is unbearable; I would be inconsolable if anything were to happen to her.
The crux of my regret isn’t rooted in a lack of love or desire for her, nor is there anything inherently wrong with her. Rather, I feel a profound sense of guilt for not embracing motherhood the way I believe I should. Even if I’ve been a good parent and she has turned out to be a wonderful person, I constantly wrestle with guilt for wishing I hadn’t taken the plunge into parenthood. I can’t entirely articulate why I feel this way; it’s just how I feel.
That said, my relationship with my daughter is incredibly close. We communicate openly about everything—something many of her friends struggle to do with their parents. She respects our household rules and handles her responsibilities well. She has no relationship with her biological father or his family, which was their choice, and she even asked my husband to adopt her four years ago. She is as close to him as she is to me. I’ve done my utmost to ensure she never feels unwanted, even pushing through my introverted nature to meet her emotional needs, which has been a struggle.
In the end, I feel a mix of love and responsibility, accompanied by lingering guilt over my feelings toward motherhood.
For those considering parenthood, I recommend checking out resources like Healthline’s guide on IVF for insights, and if you’re looking into ways to boost fertility, Make a Mom has great information. Also, for men, a look at fertility boosters could prove beneficial.
In summary, while I deeply love my daughter, I often reflect on my decision to become a parent with a sense of regret. I strive to be the best mother I can be, even amidst my conflicting feelings.