Regrets? [on the fly]

old woman no regrets

My Facebook newsfeed is always seasoned with posts from my friends about their children; I love seeing the photos and hearing about their milestones and accomplishments.

Today, it started me thinking back to a question I am often asked:

“Do you regret not having children of your own?”

In my mind, I start to piece this apart.

 

Do I regret…

 

I regret nothing I have done in my life.

Every experience, every mistake, all the love given, lost, gained and lost again, all of the heartache and heartbreak, joy and pain – it was all worth it. To borrow a cliché, it has all lead me up to this moment in time.

Do I sometimes wish I would have done or said things differently? Absolutely – because, pardon another cliché, hindsight is 20/20.

 

…not having children…

 

I had a child.

I went through a long and sometimes difficult pregnancy, experienced labor pains and giving birth without any pain medication. I held my child in my arms after she was born, even though the nurses were worried I’d grow attached to her.

Three days later, I signed her over to her new parents, who were ready and able to give her the life and love she deserved. 

 

…of my own?

 

My daughter is my one and only child. Through her wonderful parents, I got to see her grow up into the beautiful, intelligent and amazing woman she is today.

I received letters, photos and updates on her accomplishments and milestones in her life – it was all by the way of old school communication – the written letter through the mail.

I was also close with my three nephews growing up; I take great pride when they accomplish awesome milestones in their lives.

We laugh, share, cry and of course disagree on occasion. When I see or hear that one of them has done something good, I always say, “I raised him right!”

 

On the whole, do I regret not having children of my own?

 

Sometimes – but then I think back on the times my ex-husband and I tried to get pregnant.

I am so very thankful to the heavens that we never succeeded. I cannot even begin to fathom the completely dysfunctional environment my child would have been exposed to and raised in, not only at home, but with Mom-ster as well.

That hypothetical child would have had more emotional scars than I; I do not want to think of the therapy bills he or she would have had to pay to heal.

 

Some people in this world were not meant to have children.

 

Mom-ster used to tell me that her mother would always say, “You’re either a great parent or a great teacher. I am a great teacher.”

That has stuck in my head all of these years.

Using my Grandmother’s logic, perhaps I am a great teacher – I can educate others through my words, proving that one truly can rise above a tortured soul past and live the life they’ve always dreamed of.
 
life is beautiful