There are times when I feel so guilty for having children. For bringing them into such a horrible world. I know life has good parts, but it has bad parts too, and I hate to think I can’t protect them from everything.
I helped create them, my body was their safe haven until they could survive outside of it. But as they grow, they need me less and less. My daughter is at school full time, and she doesn’t even miss me. She’s just absorbing herself in learning new things. My son recently stopped breastfeeding, and I’m acutely aware of how much that has decreased his reliance on me.
It makes me feel hollow, to know that as they grow they’re going to be bombarded with different opinions and difficult choices. They’re going to experience pain, rejection, loss, heartbreak, loneliness, fear, anger. They’re going to cry innumerable tears and fight countless battles. I would give anything to save them from all of life’s hardships.