What is Regret?

I don’t like the idea of regrets.

It’s always made me uncomfortable to consider regretting things, because if they hadn’t happened, who would I be? How can I say that I wish I had done other things when I don’t know how those other things would’ve turned out? Maybe they would’ve been worse!

That doesn’t mean there aren’t things I technically “regret.” If I could whisper advice to my younger self, if I could change the outcome of situations, if I could remove some trauma, you can bet your ass I would.

Maybe.

Moving to Philadelphia when I was 19 was stupid, and there are definitely things about that that shouldn’t have happened. Yet, I don’t regret it. I learned so much, I grew so much. Philadelphia opened my eyes and made me a better person.

If I had stayed in Indiana, I would have less debt. If I hadn’t moved in with a boyfriend, I would’ve avoided trauma and abuse. These are things that make me sad, things I wish didn’t happen, things I wish I was free from.

But how can I say I regret them?

If I hadn’t given myself stomach ulcers due to stress and anxiety during my last semester of college, I wouldn’t have missed a week or less of birth control pills. If I hadn’t missed those pills, I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I wouldn’t have Finian.

Do I regret the ulcers? Sure. They were very painful, and I was very sick. But they lead to Finian, and that tiny human is my favorite thing in the world.

I was so stressed that last semester in college because I was trying to support myself for the first time. I was supporting myself because I had just broken up with JD. I broke up with JD because he had been abusive. If he hadn’t been abusive, I wouldn’t have gotten ulcers, and then I wouldn’t have Finian.

Do I recommend abuse and ulcers to people? No! These are bad things, that shouldn’t happen and should be avoided. Yet, from the darkness, a light came.

Life is weird.

I didn’t even want to get pregnant. I cried. I cried a lot, when a + appeared on the pee stick. I debated a lot on whether I should abort the pregnancy or keep it. Deciding to keep the fetus that grew into Finian was the toughest decision of my life.

I can honestly say that I don’t know why I decided to keep it. My pro/con list was full of reasons to abort. It was the only option that made sense. But I woke up one morning, and I had decided to keep it. In my head, I knew I shouldn’t, but in my heart, I wanted it.

I’m glad I did, because, as I said, that tiny human is my favorite thing in the world. Who knew I could create something that good? They’re perfect. The best. Every other baby falls short when compared to their strength, their intelligence, their humor, their beauty. Sorry, every other baby in the universe, you’re all losers: Finnie Bean is the winner.

But if only the timing could have been better.

I had just finished college, but I didn’t have any job prospects or any money. I was recovering from stomach ulcers. My anxiety was at an all time high. I had to move back in with my parents. Tyler broke up with me suddenly and unexpectedly, pulling the rug out from under me. It was like my Jenga tower had fallen over, with Tyler leaving being the last block that was holding it up.

And in this pile of Jenga blocks and rolled up rugs, antacid medications and Xanax, a bottle of vodka and a tear stained pillow case--my period was late. I texted Tyler to tell them the test was positive.

Tyler supported me, encouraged me, and completely let me make the decision for myself. I knew they didn’t want a kid, and, when I decided to keep it, I wasn’t sure if they would choose to be involved at all. I shouldn’t have worried about that though. Even before we got back together, Tyler was there for me and promising to always be there for the child too. They listened to me as I cried and complained, they came to take care of me when I was sick during the pregnancy, and they were amazed and interested as I shared every bit of information I learned about the developing fetus.

We were officially broken up for around 3-4 months, but we talked every day. We were still in love. We still saw each other, and when we were together, we still could hardly keep our hands off each other, even with my progressing pregnancy and our complicated feelings for each other.

We both know we wouldn’t have gotten back together if I hadn’t gotten pregnant. I don’t necessarily think we got back together because of the pregnancy, rather the pregnancy had us talking regularly, which lead us to get back together. I know that for my part, I wouldn’t have worked so hard for us to be okay, to get past my hurt feelings, or even talk to them on any sort of regular basis, if I hadn’t been pregnant with their child. When they broke up with me, I let them leave, and I wouldn’t have tried to get them back. I would have removed myself from contact with them, I would’ve put up walls and barriers around my heart and not have let them back in.

But I was pregnant. So instead of letting my love dry up into bitter hate for the person who had just dumped me, I kept picking that scab open.

Last Friday, Tyler and I celebrated our anniversary, ignoring the 3ish months we were technically not together. We counted it as the 2 year mark. What is 3 months when we were still talking every day?

Honestly, it hurts my feelings still. I wish I could count the years as uninterrupted. I wish Tyler had been on the bathroom floor with me when I counted to 10 to get my nerve up enough to peak at the pregnancy test. I wish I hadn’t spent the 1st trimester wondering if I was going to be doing this alone, wondering what was going on between us, wondering why they had left in the first place.

Do I regret these things?

I guess, maybe.

I wish it had been different. I wish I didn’t feel like I had to walk through the darkness to reach the light.

I wish I could’ve been 30ish and financially stable when Finian came into my life. I wish Tyler and I had worked everything out and our relationship was perfectly healthy before we added a third to our life. I wish I hadn’t had stomach ulcers, I wish I hadn’t gone through an abusive relationship, I wish I didn’t have out-of-state-tuition debt.

But I did. And here I am now.

If I changed these things, would I have what I have now? Would Tyler and I ever have worked hard enough on our relationship to make it if we didn’t also have a baby to consider? Would I have ever convinced myself I was ready for a baby if it wasn’t an accident? Would I have learned about diversity, hardships, compassion like I did if I hadn’t gone to Philadelphia to be in a toxic relationship? Would I ever have the strength and faith in myself like I do now if I hadn’t known I could overcome all of that shit? Would I be able to bare my soul to whoever clicks on this blog post if my life hadn’t happened the way it did?

I have no idea.

The path I chose to walk wasn’t always the easiest or best path, and sometimes it led to dark and scary places I wish I hadn’t gone to. The path took me to dark forests filled with noises of evils I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify. It took me to the edge of a precipice, and I looked down at sharp rocks and waves crashing violently against the side of the cliff. Sometimes I ran down the path as wolves, monsters, men chased me. Sometimes I fell and skinned my knee. Sometimes I wanted to give up.

The path also took me to beautiful hills, filled with rolling green pastures and wild flowers. It introduced me to people who made me laugh, taught me strength, encouraged me to keep going. The path took me to peaceful rivers, calm valleys, mountains with amazing views. Sometimes friends walked with me, and we laughed together and helped each other from tripping. Sometimes I found cats sitting along the edge of the path, and I picked them up and took them with me. And then I found a baby, and I picked them up and I’m taking them with me.

Can I really wish any of this didn’t happen? Can I really regret aspects or events in my life? Without the pain and sadness, would I have ever found happiness and compassion? Things aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, of course, and I could definitely use a good therapist. Yet, I have a partner who I love and trust, a baby who is my favorite thing in the world, and parents who support me relentlessly, even though I’ve been living with them again as an adult for a year and a half.

Is it possible to regret the bad things in life without saying you also regret the good things? Can you disconnect the good which resulted from the bad? Can I regret stomach ulcers without regretting my child?

Probably. But it always feels like cognitive dissonance to me to not draw the line between the ulcers and Finian. I wouldn’t have one without the other, and I really like that kid.

Anyways, you can’t have a rainbow without rain. Sometimes the worst things in life lead to the best. And that’s weird and unfortunate. It would be cool if the best things lead to the best things, and there was never anything bad ever. But that’s not life, sadly. And why waste energy wishing I could make it that way?

No ragrets, y'know what I'm sayin'?