You might think I’m a bad mother, but I can genuinely envision a life without children. Yes, I can picture my existence without my four-year-old son. There, I’ve said it. Feel free to judge me harshly.
When my high-maintenance baby was around eight months old, I had a conversation with a colleague, Tom. I asked him whether he and his partner had planned for twins and a third child shortly after, or if it was an unexpected surprise. He told me it was unplanned, but he wouldn’t change a thing.
“Really?” I replied, incredulously. “You can’t picture your life without three kids under six?” His expression suggested he found my perspective troubling, almost as if I had confessed to a bizarre secret.
“Actually, I can,” I said bluntly. “I can vividly imagine my previous life, and yes, I would welcome it back.” Tom, being respectful, let my seemingly selfish views slide, and we returned to our work.
As years passed, I observed a consistent theme: parents who unexpectedly welcomed children often claimed they couldn’t fathom life without their “perfect” baby. I could only think of two explanations for this apparent delusion: either they were so sleep-deprived they were out of touch with reality, or their partners were handling all the nighttime duties while they lounged on the couch.
For me, the thought of life without my child would occasionally surface for whole minutes. I could easily recall the bliss of uninterrupted evenings spent binge-watching reality TV, or enjoying leisurely meals I prepared for myself. I remembered spontaneous nights out dancing with friends, returning home late, snacking, and going to bed without a care in the world. Oh, how I longed for those nights of deep, uninterrupted sleep!
But that’s not all—I could also reminisce about invigorating runs with my dog, cycling down familiar paths with the wind in my hair, and the joy of being entirely responsible for myself. If I allowed my mind to wander, I might even romanticize my past as better than it truly was.
Do I love my child? Absolutely. I would do anything to protect him, even put myself in harm’s way to ensure his safety. I’ve sacrificed my sleep, some health, and much of my personal time for him, but I did so willingly and with love.
However, I often ponder the question: “Would I change anything?” Would I reverse time and alter my choices? Would I forsake my bright, inquisitive, and entertaining little one who sees me as his everything?
When faced with this question, I hesitate. I can vividly imagine the freedom and joy of my former life, a time when my responsibilities revolved solely around me. And honestly, it wasn’t so bad.
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In conclusion, it’s completely normal to reflect on life before children. It’s a complex mix of love, sacrifice, and the occasional yearning for the past.