Independent-Ruin-237 Thought I'd share my story here in case it can help anyone gain clarity for themselves. This sub was a great resource for me a number of years ago, and there are a lot of things I can see more clearly in retrospect - hopefully sharing some of them here can be of use for others struggling with this choice.

Let me start by saying, I think the vast majority of people who choose to have a kid will not regret doing so. Once a living breathing child is in your arms (and isn't just a hypothetical idea), biology kicks in HARD to make you love them and re-orient your whole life around them. I never felt a maternal instinct towards children until I had my own, then my daughter instantly became the most important thing in my life - almost against my will (I wish I still had the ability to care about other things + myself more). It feels like the care is biologically forced out of me and is not a joyous experience, but more of an animal instinct one. Parenthood radically and instantly changes so many things about your life, it's hard to even compare your post-kid reality to your pre-kid one - it's like an entirely different movie script.

So, I don't consider myself "regretful," but I definitely fall into the camp of "I love my child but I hate being a parent."

As some background, I spent the first 35 years of my life being 100% child-free. I never had a single moment where was even curious about having a child, much less actually desired one. The idea of pregnancy sounded absolutely horrific - like a parasite leeching off of me and ruining my body. I could not imagine why anyone would voluntarily become a parent if they had a choice not to. I was so firm in this choice, I never bothered examining my feelings or considering other options; child-free just felt like a given.

When I was 35, my husband (who had previously been fine with whatever my choice about kids was) suddenly caught baby fever. We had many heated discussions and arguments, I started going to therapy, he was convinced life is meaningless unless you have a child, it was clear that if I couldn't get on board with having a kid then we would be looking at divorce. I eventually decided to go for it with the following rationale:

- Did not want to lose my husband; also thought he would make a great, loving dad and didn't want to deny him that experience 
- Older family members began dying off, and I got glimpses of how bleak the future could look when my parents and other relatives were gone without a family of my own (I'm an only child, which probably factors in to this) 
- My therapist was strongly pro-child and convinced me that it was a necessary life stage to go through to become a true adult 
- I could see the days/months/years starting to bleed together, and it was hard to picture the future offering anything new as a child-free person 
- Thinking about all my ancestors who survived and reproduced so that I could be here, I started feeling guilty about being the end of my lineage 
- LOTS of friends and family members encouraged me to have a baby and were very excited - and promised it would be the best thing that ever happened to me 
- I'm very interested in personal growth and started viewing this as a challenge to make me a better person

However, in retrospect I had some gut feelings and hesitations that I forced myself to ignore, which I now thoroughly wish I had listened to. Those were: 
 
- Knowing I really really really value freedom. I don't like being tied down, I don't like to be bogged down with too many responsibilities, I like the freedom to change paths and pursue whatever is calling in the moment - that probably sounds immature, but just being honest about my core personality there. I feel like I'm in prison now and the only way I don't spiral into despair is by avoiding thinking too hard about the reality of my life 
- Knowing I'm hypersensitive to noise, stimulation, etc. and need lots of quiet down time. I \*hate\* who I've become without getting regular quiet breaks and "me" time; I'm irritable, tired, annoyed, anxious, and on edge almost all the time now. It's a double edged sword, because when my daughter is around I'm exhausted and overstimulated, but if my husband or family member takes her so that I have "me" time, I spend the whole time worrying about her and can't relax 
- Suspecting that all the childcare duties, cleaning, etc. would fall on me, even though my husband insisted he would rise to the occasion once a child was here (he has ADHD and struggles with noticing messes and remembering small tasks - if anything this got worse post-kid) 
- Suspecting that the lack of sleep and reduced physical intimacy would strain our marriage (this 100% was true; we had so many fights during the newborn phase alone, our relationship has not recovered from the resentment, and our dynamic feels more like roommates now) 
- Sleep deprivation wrecking my mental health (by the time I got pregnant, I'd done years of work to improve my mental health and become happy in life after long struggles with depression; post-kid it all came back even worse) 
- Struggling with body image issues (this came true and remains - I was very fit and in a place where I loved my body pre-pregnancy; the physical changes were very difficult, I developed a thyroid condition during pregnancy, and I have what will likely be lifelong pain issue and complications from pregnancy and delivery) 
- Knowing that I derive an enormous amount of meaning and joy from my hobbies and career, neither of which I have the energy, time, or motivation to put much into anymore. This has been one of the most devastating things 
- Suspecting I wouldn't find deep fulfillment in motherhood like other people do. This has been true. I felt very fulfilled in life pre-child and if anything, I feel less fulfilled now - just more responsible

My advice for anyone reading:

- If you find yourself arguing with this post in your head and finding reasons my situation is different than yours, deep down you probably do want a child! 
- If you find yourself feeling relieved reading this post and feeling a sense of permission to trust your own feelings, deep down you probably don't want a child. 
- I don't personally agree with the sentiment that "you can't know real love until you have a child." I've always been an animal person and felt close to this level of care and unconditional love for my pets over the years. With a child, those feelings are more intense but I wouldn't say they're in an entirely different category. Maybe non-animal-people have a different experience. 
- All those people who encourage you to have a kid, just remember, they aren't going to be in the trenches with you after you actually have one. It will all be on YOU (and your partner, if you have an equally contributing one). It's easy for people to say things from afar but at the end of the day, you'll be the one dealing with the consequences of your choices, not them. Even my husband has admitted "this is a lot harder than he expected." 
- To that point, make sure your partner doesn't have rose-colored glasses about the parenting experience. If they want the Kodak moments, passing on their wisdom, etc. that's great, but make sure they have a good sense of the full reality - including the endless drudgery, the changes in time you have to spend together, loss of intimacy, tantrums, physical risks for the woman/mother, how every day for the foreseeable future is locked into incredibly boring and repetitive routines. My husband thought I was being negative every time I tried bringing those things up, but almost everything I said (and listed as a hesitation of mine when our child discussions first started) ended up coming true. 
- **Probably the most important point:** I think the people who will be happiest getting off the fence and having a child are those who deep down really wanted a child, but were on the fence due to fear. For those of us who didn't ever feel a true, instinctual draw to becoming a parent, the risk of missing your old life is probably a lot higher. In retrospect, none of my reasons for having a kid were "because I actually want a kid."

If I could go back in time, knowing what I know now, I would choose to remain child-free. I would focus more on building my friendships and community and taking the time I have on this planet to give back to humanity in the ways that bring me joy. I would use my time better and be proactive about doing things that intrigued me. One paradox here, it wasn't until I lost my free time that I finally understood how valuable it was - I would give anything to have that back now, and use it wisely.

I've also heard a lot of people say that things get better after the first year or so. This was not my experience at all. The newborn stage was definitely "survival mode" and a total blur in retrospect, but after things calmed down and we established better routines and I was able to get more sleep, I actually got more depressed. Due to having more time to think about my new reality and have it sink in that this is my life now. The toddler years are brutal, I'm not excited for the teenage years either, in fact there's no real age I'm looking forward to until my daughter is grown up. And by then my healthiest and most energetic years will be behind me.

Also, one thing I've found to be true, all those people who told me "having a kid is the best thing ever!" did a pivot after I had my own, and are now way more open about their struggles, complaints, and even regrets. I saw this being talked about online a lot, but assumed it was one of those things that seems more common than it is due to the way the internet amplifies complaints. I've actually experienced it a shocking number of times though.

My kid is awesome, I love her more than words can describe, but I miss my old life every day and feel like I lost my own joy and happiness. I'm trying to make the best of my life now but it's hard to feel positive about the future. Maybe I'm just a selfish person for wanting to enjoy my own life to the fullest extent - some people really do seem to be natural parents who feel joy at taking care of a small human. That isn't me, and unfortunately it took this experience to fully realize that.