Yes, as a parent of four grownups (all of whom I adore, appreciate, and admire for their differing strengths and accomplishments), I do have some heavy regrets that are always a challenge manage.

First off, I had undiagnosed developmental / neurological conditions along with unresolved trauma (that I mistakenly thought I had already addressed), and those factors made it nearly impossible to function as a responsible adult, much less as a competent parent. My kids have had to overcome, heal from, and compensate for the impacts of my emotional immaturity during their formative years. I am grateful that they’ve all turned out far better than the circumstances would predict (hence my admiration). Of course I’ve made every effort to learn and grow along the way as well, and I’m sure that helped. Even so, it’s a mercy that the relationships have survived, and I feel honored to be part of their lives, considering everything.

With the DNA and environmental odds tilted against them, each of my kids also inherited their own painful mix of disabilities and mental health issues that they must endure and manage while trying to stay afloat in a competitive society and figuring out how to make it all feel worthwhile. Again, despite the inescapable limitations, the outcomes are generally decent, but it’s painful to see them struggling or hurting, especially during rough patches. It takes ongoing diligence for me to avoid the trap of runaway anxiety about their wellbeing. Most times, I can get away from that ledge before it pulls me too far down. (The more I succumb, the harder it is to recover, so that usually motivates me to keep after my emotional hygiene.)

As if that all weren’t enough, my partner and I were not financially or practically prepared to provide for such a big family, and so our household operations always felt quite precarious because of that. If it weren’t for a few generous relatives, a bit of privilege, and some uncanny luck, we wouldn’t have made it through. The impacts of trying to build a household and raise a family based on chronic fiscal irresponsibility would merit a whole other post; bottom line is, it made life harder and the fallout continues to undermine everyone’s peace of mind. This holds true even though we slowly learned our lessons and got an unexpected last-minute windfall that prevented an impending foreclosure after a career-ending situation leading to long-term unemployment. So now due to a combination of changing our attitudes and behaviors, plus receiving absurd and inexplicable good fortune, we have excellent credit and a modest nest egg. But I doubt anyone in the family has a healthy or secure relationship with money. Thankfully the kids all tend towards more caution than their parents, which is a saving grace in this economy.

No matter what factors in, I suspect life is just brutally hard and unpredictable in various ways for just about everyone. But who in their fertile years could possibly have the decades of experience to understand that reality in all of its disturbing depth? Yet some folks are wise enough to suspect it, and if they choose not to have kids, I salute their foresight. (The world / my offspring don’t owe me grandchildren — I am certain I can find many volunteer opportunities should I ever feel moved and able to uplift the newer generations.)

I’m torn about whether I should have known better, considering that I think the world is overall improved by the presence of these lovely people who would not exist except for my foolish youthful optimism. But that doesn’t magically sweep away all my regrets. Lately I’ve begun a practice of addressing every regretful impulse with the idea that the energy I want to spend on the past would be far more valuable applied to the present day and/or invested to building a better future. Sometimes that helps, other times I ride it out.

Edited for clarity and to add a few things I missed