By definition, the word regret is a feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened or been done. In spite of this, there is a difference of opinion when it comes to having them. I’ve heard some people describe regrets as a form of immaturity, and I totally disagree.

A couple of days ago I read a post on social media that raised a question I found interesting: “Have you ever regretted a decision you made that haunts you even today?” Unfortunately, my answer is yes. In all honesty, there are several decisions I made that I regret. There are moments that stand out in my mind where I wish I had been more vocal about my thoughts and feelings instead of going along with what was happening. In retrospect, those particular regrets pale in comparison to the one that haunts me the most.

On Thursday, July 7, 2011, I went into premature labor and deliver my son, Xavier William. Moments before he entered the world, my doctor told my then-husband and me that our son was going to die. The doctor asked if we wanted to hold him once he was born and he explained that the staff would honor the decision we made at that moment. In other words, I couldn’t change my mind later. I said no, and it is one of the biggest regrets I have, which haunts me to this day.

I don’t consider having regrets as an act of immaturity—I see it as the complete opposite. When we experience feelings of regret, we are recognizing we could have done things differently, which aligns with accountability. Additionally, having regrets can potentially enable us to make better decisions in the future. The feelings of disappointment, sadness, or repentance can remind us of what we don’t want to experience again, which is something I encountered two years after Xavier died.

On Sunday, January 13, 2013, I went into premature labor again and delivered my second son, Elijah Thomas. History repeated itself and my doctor told my then-husband and me our son was going to die, but when I was asked if I wanted to hold him, I said yes with no hesitation. I recalled the feelings of emptiness and remorse that overwhelmed me when I chose not to hold Xavier—I didn’t want to feel that again. I believe regretting the decision I made in 2011 made me more conscious of my actions and their consequences.

We are all entitled to our opinions, and our views are typically based on our biases, experiences, and perspectives. I choose to embrace my regrets and use them to make more calculated and intelligent choices in the future. I respect those who believe regrets are immature, but I still humbly disagree.

“Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. ”

— Mark 11:24 KJV

When I started blogging five years ago, I planned to share my sense of style and information related to where I like to shop. That is what I was encouraged to do. It wasn’t my original plan to create a second blog focused on my life and relationships, but when I sat down to write, I was driven to share my experiences, and quite frankly, my innermost hurts. But today I contemplated writing about my seemingly suppressed desire for a child. I questioned whether or not I would be exposing too much of myself. But I remembered something I read and shared a few months ago.

“Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.”

— Fred Rogers

This past October, I met with one of my friends to record an episode about pregnancy and infant loss awareness for my podcast. During our discussion, my longing for a baby rose to the forefront of my mind and touched the very core of my heart. Prior to this conversation, I thought I had closed the door on the possibility of ever birthing another human. I also believed I had moved past wanting a baby. But the conversation I had on that Sunday morning in October let me see I had been deceiving myself.

I told my mother about it later that day, and in her usual fashion, she encouraged me to pray about it. She reminded me that God can do anything.

“Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us,”

— Ephesians 3:20 KJV

I haven’t shied away from expressing the feelings I experienced—and still bear—because of the loss of my babies. To date, losing my children is the most painful experience of my life. So, I think it is understandable that I am hesitant about entertaining the idea of becoming pregnant again—there’s so much to consider. I thought about my age and the fact that I miscarried twice. Not to mention, I am unmarried—and I just recently reopened my mind to dating again. But in the midst of my whirlwind of reasons not to give in to the yearning within me, an old song by The Clark Sisters, “Expect Your Miracle,” popped in my head.

The words of the song are fairly simple and the message is direct and clear.

“Just beleive and receive it,
God will perform it today…
I expect a miracle every day,
God will make a way out of no way…”
- Expect Your Miracle, the Clark Sisters

And as I sit here writing the thoughts of my intimate desires, I recognize what I must do. I need to follow the advice I immediately give to my friends whenever they come to me for encouragement or direction—pray about it. Because the fact of the matter is, the sky is the limit to what I can have.

Are Regrets Good or Bad?

The Sky is the Limit to What I Can Have; but, Does that Include a Child?