Choose Your Regret

In April of 2020, I was processing my devastation over a cancelled transfer cycle, and navigating a deluge of pregnancy announcements as I remained unhappily un-pregnant. An eruption point came for me when I received a postcard from my insurance company featuring a glowing, round-bellied pregnant woman - cheerfully offering help with my “little one on the way.” There was no little one on the way. I was devastated. In February of 2025, I have an almost-4 year old who is equal parts Cherub and Tasmanian Devil. I am happier, busier, and more stressed than I have ever been before. And once again, signs of the thing I am missing seem to mock me at every turn. Another eruption point comes in the form of another goddamned postcard - from an entirely different insurance company, no less. This one features an adorable tableau with a big-sibling-to-be: a curly-haired toddler in glasses leans in to kiss her faceless Mother’s expectant belly. I want to scream.

I never intended to raise an only child. I pictured (as many of us do) a family that resembled the one I grew up in, and 3 kids always glimmered in my mind's eye. But life, as ever, found a way to derail the future I expected. A complicated road to pregnancy, a traumatic and medically complex birth, a ‘first’ with special needs, and unanticipated financial setbacks in the face of soaring inflation all played their part. As the political climate in my home country descends further into madness, I’m trying to balance pragmatism with unanticipated grief. The family I expected doesn’t exist. Can never exist. And it’s not that I don’t want the life I have - it’s just that this one comes at the expense of the life I imagined. Right now, I’m trying my hardest to move forward: I’ve read books, turned to social media groups, and return to the topic over and over in therapy. I vacillate from guilt to more guilt - If I grieve the babies I’ll never birth, I must not appreciate the miracle of a child I’m lucky to have. If I don’t have another, I’m depriving him of the sibling experience I so want him to have.

In One and Done / On the Fence groups, I often see versions of this question: "Would rather regret the child you never had, or regret a real person you’ve brought into the world?" The implied correct answer, of course, is that it's better not to subject a living child to parents who regret their existence - a sentiment I share. But of course it's never quite so black and white. In the planning stages, parents ask ourselves: "Will the increased joy be worth the increased burden?" or "Will the increased freedom be worth the loneliness?" There will always be regrets, and our work is to figure out which regrets we can live with. I'm working on accepting the fact that sometimes you choose regrets based on a different set of circumstances than the ones you set out with. The offending insurance flyer stops me in my tracks with its glib reminder to "appreciate every step of the journey." I am most certainly not enjoying every step - but still, after a moment I can chuck it in the recycling and continue rounding up the dozens of miniature cars and trucks which now decorate my home.