Why I Regret Not Having More Kids, Despite Having a Big Family

I am a mother of four, and I love my children more than I knew possible. I love them so much that sometimes I feel like there is a hole in my heart because I regret not having children. That probably sounds completely ridiculous to a lot of people, and maybe it is, but there are days when I look around the room and feel like someone is missing.

When I was young, I spent hours playing with my dolls. I still have Sherry Amelda, my first Cabbage Patch Kid; I took him with me wherever I went. I changed her clothes, fed her, and put her to sleep. And I twisted her red thread hair into braids and gently cleaned the spots on her face and body. Sherry Amelda was my first foray into motherhood. I knew even when I was young that I wanted a house full of children.

Serious Regret of Not Having Another Child. Or Two.

I had my first baby in my late 20s, and my husband is in his mid-30s. We had three boys in five years, and life was good. Then, two days before I turned 37, a little girl entered our lives. My oldest son is 8, and I feel blessed to have a baby in our home. Now, he’s ready to turn 8, and his oldest brother is learning to drive. I look at my life and wonder how it went by so quickly. I regret not having more children, even one or two.

Yes, life is messy as a big family with four kids, and we’re all crammed into a house with lots of stuff and a big dog, but we’re happy that way. I grew up with three brothers, and our home was always noisy and full of people. It brought me relief. I feel the same way in my own home. There is always something going on, and people are talking, sometimes shouting, but those noises bring me joy. I think about what life would be like with just my husband and I, and it seems so sad.

If we had one or two, that happy noise would last a lot longer. No, I don’t want to have enough kids to star in a reality show, but I do regret not having another child. Even two more would be okay. My husband says that if we had gotten married a few years earlier, he would have thought six children was a big number and would have liked to have more. Thinking about that makes my heart ache a little. I think about those what-ifs and how different our lives would be. But I can’t help but think it’s incredible.

Unfortunately, We Will Never Have More Children

I’m getting ready to be 45, and my husband will be 51. I was sure we would have another baby, but no. I get really jealous when I see pregnant women. I love feeling my babies growing inside me. Even with endless diapers, crying, and sleepless nights, all the emotions are worth it. And it’s hard for me to think about the fact that I have about ten years until my baby grows up.

So Many Children Are Tired, But Responsive

Having a house full of kids means big messes, endless laundry, dishes, and hours in the car going from one place to another. It’s exhausting. But for me, it’s also fulfilling. I love looking at pictures of my children smiling and enjoying the most mundane things in life. The more children you have, the less you earn. We don’t go on fancy vacations or cruises. But we went on a glorious camping trip with our families every July. My kids will tell you this is their favorite week of the year filled with so much nothing. Those days are probably some of their most vivid childhood memories. I hope.

I must remember that as my children grow, so do I. In my 40s, I had pains in parts of my body I didn’t know I had. My hair was shining gray, and my face had laugh lines. At my age, I probably wouldn’t do well with a baby, but I could still keep up with a kindergartner if I had one. I know you shouldn’t have regrets, but if I had to name one, I regret not having more children.

I believe everything happens for a reason. So the three boys and one girl setup I have, a reflection of my family growing up, is probably what I meant. But that doesn’t mean that I no longer wonder, desire, and long for another child to love. If I’m lucky, one day I hope to have a home full of grandchildren, and I can watch my children learn about the joys of parenthood. Until then, I’ll take every hug and kiss I get. My babies fill my soul, and I am grateful.

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