Whenever a group of married couples, some with kids and others without, gather together, the conversation inevitably shifts to, “So, when are you planning to have children?” I’ll admit, I cringe slightly when I ask this question, as I used to find it annoying myself. But I’m genuinely curious about their life choices and aspirations. Unfortunately, their answers often stir up a twinge of envy deep within me.
“We’re waiting until we… travel more, buy a house, advance in our careers, pay off our student loans, feel ready…”
These responses are entirely valid and sensible. The issue lies with me and how I entered parenthood. My partner and I had no plans to have children. We made that decision together long before we tied the knot—because I wanted to ensure that the person I committed to was on the same page about living our lives without kids. But the universe had different plans, and now I’m the mom of two delightful little ones. I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but there are moments when I find myself mourning the life I never experienced.
Many of my friends have “plans” for parenthood. They’re waiting for the right moment, pursuing goals and dreams before they dive into the parenting pool. My partner and I didn’t have that luxury. We barely got settled into our marriage before my birth control decided to take a vacation, and I discovered I was pregnant during a family getaway.
In that whirlwind of life changes, we were so taken aback by this unexpected turn that I didn’t pause to consider what we were giving up. It wasn’t until recently, during chats with friends who are delaying childbearing, that I recognized the life I missed—the adventures I didn’t embark on, the memories that never came to be. While we were busy comparing cribs and strollers, our friends were out exploring, free from the demands of newborns.
Now, don’t get me wrong; my life with kids is not a nightmare. It’s fulfilling. We’ve got stability, a roof over our heads, and my kids bring me joy every day. Yet, there are evenings when fatigue weighs my body down but my mind remains restless, wandering down the path of “what could have been.” The spontaneous trips we could have taken, the plans that never materialized, those peaceful weekends filled with just the two of us—I wish we could have relished those moments a bit longer, but, alas, life had other designs.
I don’t harbor any resentment towards my friends who are choosing to wait until they feel fully ready to start families. I admire their foresight and maturity in putting their dreams first. I just can’t help but miss the life that slipped through my fingers.
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To sum it up, while the journey of parenthood is rewarding and filled with love, I sometimes find myself reflecting on the life that I didn’t get to live before making that leap into motherhood.