A lot of people saying they don't "regret" having kids, but if they could go back in time and do things differently, they would. To me, that IS regret. And I DO regret having a kid.
I was in my early thirties, so not a particularly young dad. I had a steady income, and had been with my wife for 5 years. We were already engaged before she got pregnant, but not married.
I thought I was old enough and mature enough to have children. I thought it was the "right" time. I thought "well, I definitely want kids eventually, so why not have them now, while I'm young(ish)"? I'd heard it was better to be a younger parent, and my wife was already making noises about getting too old to have kids (safely) when she was in her early thirties.
We now have a three year old boy, and my wife has already said she wants another. I think she's fucking insane. My reaction when people ask whether I want another is: I actually want to go the other way and have FEWER children (i.e. zero) as opposed to more children.
Of course everyone knows that raising kids is difficult, right? But ultimately, it's rewarding too? So far I've experienced the former, but not the latter. I'd say 95% of the time, it's just stress and hard work. The occasional laugh or smile or positive experience just doesn't make up for the constant and utter stress.
I don't see the point in being married to my wife any more. We're not spending any quality time together, and that whole "get a baby sitter and have a night out" line of reasoning is fucking bullshit. Oh, thank you! Thank you so much. One night out a month with my wife? That's so kind of you. I feel the whole thing is so fucking contrived and artificial, I'd rather just stay home and drink myself numb.
Speaking of which, that's all I do now every evening. Sometimes as soon as I get home, because I can't stand coming back to an apartment littered with toys, tissues, stickers, cars, train set pieces, lego bricks, coat hangers, pieces of my wife's jewelry, computer peripherals, books, pens, and fuck knows what else, all of which my son has tossed around as a play-thing.
I can't stand the constant noise and winging and tantrums and "mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy" until he gets his own way yet again. I've given up trying to discipline him or teach him anything, because it NEVER FUCKING SINKS IN. Yes, yes. He's three years old. I know. But I've met kids of friends the same age who are much, much easier and amenable and compliant. He's a difficult kid. I've tried talking to my mum about it, and all she can say every fucking time is "You were such an easy child". Well, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't. If I was an easy child, why didn't I get an easy child?
I really feel as if the person I married has disappeared forever. I really miss the relationship we had before becoming parents. I don't feel as if raising a child is "challenging yet rewarding" or "difficult but worth it in the long run" or any of those other annoying platitudes other parents sometimes spout.
I hate myself for being a fucking idiot. I hate myself because this was MY FUCKING choice. I look at my life now, and compare it with what it used to be. Being able to take nice romantic vacations with my wife. Being able to come back to the sanctity of home after a hard day at work. Being able to talk to my wife like a rational human being without being interrupted with a barrage of screams and tears for NO FUCKING reason. A healthy, happy, spontaneous sex life. Dinners at nice restaurants. A clean and peaceful home.
Yes, we had problems, and life wasn't perfect by any means. But compared to now, it's not even in the same league.
So, now I just drink, and try to avoid getting angry and smacking my son.
I worry about stomach and throat cancer, because I'm fucking hammering my body with alcohol, just to escape the negative feelings I'm having every day toward my wife and son.
I don't want therapy, counseling, or help. And I certainly don't want a baby sitter for one fucking night a week, month or year. I want my old life back. I want to go back in time and change things. But I can't do that, so now all I want is to drink myself to death.
TLDR: Thought I was ready for the "challenging yet rewarding" experience of child rearing. Am now a nihilistic alcoholic.