Carmen loves her 10-year-old son, Teo, but if she could turn back the clock, she says she would never have become a mother. "Motherhood has taken my health, my time, my money, my strength, and my body," she explains, her voice tinged with a profound weariness. "The price is too high, and the cost is forever." This teacher, in her 40s, is part of a clandestine community of women who harbor deep regrets about their maternal roles, a sentiment rarely voiced aloud due to the pervasive societal pressure and fear of judgment.
The women who spoke to the BBC did so under the veil of anonymity, their confessions guarded from even their own families. Carmen’s tentative exploration of her feelings on a public parenting forum was met with a harsh dichotomy: empathy from some, but from others, a reaction as if she were "a monster." This visceral struggle, the overwhelming pressure, and the profound sacrifices of motherhood are starkly illuminated in the film "If I Had Legs I’d Kick You," a poignant exploration of maternal burnout that has garnered Oscar attention. Actress Rose Byrne delivers a raw portrayal of a mother unraveling under the weight of her daughter’s needs and the demanding scaffolding of family life.

Carmen finds herself resonating deeply with the film’s themes. "Motherhood is an endless job that you do even when you don’t want to, because a little person depends on you," she states, the words heavy with a sense of entrapment. "It feels like a trap you can’t escape." Despite her unflinching honesty about the "devastating" nature of being a mother, a palpable brightness emerges when discussing her son. "Teo has nothing to do with my regret; he’s a fantastic, adorable boy and I love him fiercely," Carmen affirms. "I’d give my life for him without a doubt. He’s kind, easy-going, and a brilliant student."
Psychotherapist Anna Mathur observes that when women finally feel safe enough to articulate maternal regret, it often stems not from a lack of love, but from a profound sense of isolation, exhaustion, and a lost sense of self. For Carmen, a self-proclaimed perfectionist, the immense responsibility of raising "a good citizen, a good and happy person" weighs heavily on her shoulders. She vowed to shield Teo from the emotional deprivations she experienced growing up in a "poor and dysfunctional background, where violence was the primary language" and she "never felt loved."
Initially, motherhood was "a joy." Teo was a good sleeper, and Carmen relished the quiet days of caring for her baby during maternity leave. However, this idyllic phase shifted dramatically when her son began exhibiting significant developmental delays. "Every simple moment turned into observation and concern," Carmen recalls, her voice laced with the lingering echo of guilt. "I felt so guilty, and I worried that his life would become a fight." While Teo was ultimately not diagnosed with the feared conditions and is now thriving, the relentless stress and constant worry took a severe toll on Carmen’s health, leading to the development of an autoimmune disease.

The association of maternal regret with unloving or neglectful parenting is a "careless assumption," according to Israeli sociologist Orna Donath, author of "Regretting Motherhood: A Study." Donath’s research, which involved interviews with 23 mothers, consistently highlighted the crucial distinction between regretting the experience of motherhood and the profound love felt for their children. Many participants expressed feeling "cheated" by motherhood, as the reality starkly contrasted with the idealized version perpetuated by society. One mother in Donath’s study, raising two teenagers, articulated this sentiment powerfully: "I regret having had children and becoming a mother, but I love the children that I’ve got… I wouldn’t want them not to be here, I just don’t want to be a mother."
While concrete data on maternal regret remains limited, existing studies suggest it is not an uncommon feeling. A 2023 study conducted in Poland estimated that between 5% and 14% of parents would choose childlessness if given the chance to relive their lives. Although parents may hesitate to voice these feelings openly, they are finding solace and community in online spaces. Carmen discovered she was not alone upon joining the Facebook group "I Regret Having Children," which boasts a global membership of 96,000 individuals.
"Motherhood is full of sweet moments, but they do not make up for the freedom I could have had instead," shared a member of the group residing in Australia with a five-year-old. "I wear my mask around my daughter well, but by the time she is in bed and my husband and I have that short window of quality time together, my mask is off and I prefer to be alone." The financial strain of raising a child has relegated her ambitions of travel, starting a business, and building an investment portfolio to the distant past. "I have lost all motivation for anything besides trying to raise a decent human being in this messed-up world," she confides.

Another member, from the UK, finds it "belittling" when people automatically attribute an unhappy mother’s feelings to postnatal depression. "People are more comfortable labelling it as that – my children are adults now and I still grieve the life I never got to have," she states. "I am now worrying about looking after future grandkids – the caregiving never ends."
The "I Regret Having Children" Facebook group, established in 2007, curates stories anonymously submitted by parents, predominantly women, who have privately shared their experiences. Gianina, a 44-year-old laboratory scientist from the US and a moderator of the group, emphasizes its non-judgmental purpose. "The aim has never been to shame parents or promote a particular lifestyle," she explains. "It’s more about documenting a cultural phenomenon that doesn’t often have space in mainstream conversations. The community is large and active because many people are quietly grappling with feelings they were told they weren’t supposed to have." Gianina herself, who was ambivalent about having children, found that reading the forum’s candid discussions solidified her decision to remain childfree.
Younger generations are approaching the decision to have children with a more nuanced perspective than their predecessors, according to Margaret O’Connor, a counsellor and psychotherapist in Ireland specializing in pre-parenthood guidance. "There is much more realization that it’s a choice," O’Connor observes. "It’s not an automatic thing you have to do. I have people coming to me in their 20s and 30s who know they want to have children, but are still kind of worried about the challenges, and would like some support to navigate it."

Identifying definitive "red flags" that signal a future regret for motherhood is challenging, as each woman’s experience is profoundly individual, O’Connor cautions. "You need to be as sure as you can be about this big decision and be doing it for your own reasons… rather than external pressure from your partner, or your parents." She also advises skepticism towards the idealized notion of an all-encompassing "village" of support. "The message we get generally is, ‘We’ll all be here to mind the baby’ – but people often aren’t – it’s your baby and you’ll be responsible for them." O’Connor acknowledges that experiencing regret is a normal, albeit difficult, emotional response given the immense demands of parenthood. She suggests seeking therapy to explore the root causes of such feelings in a safe, non-judgmental environment.
Maternal regret is not always a permanent or easily reversible emotion, according to Mathur. "For some women, those feelings [of regret] soften or change significantly with support, rest, time, and a shift in circumstances," she states. "But for others, elements of that feeling may remain regardless, and it’s important we allow space for that honesty without the shame." Orna Donath’s research also indicates that for some, regretting motherhood is a feeling that persists indefinitely. "All the women I talked to try to do their best alongside their regret," she notes. "A few years ago, I got a letter from a woman who regrets becoming a mother, and she wrote that what helps her is not having hope that it will someday disappear… she prefers to accept it rather than fight it and be crushed every time she understands that it’s not going away."
In Carmen’s case, she believes the feeling of regret is permanent, "because the sacrifice is forever." However, several years of therapy have helped her accept herself and her complex emotions surrounding motherhood. "I no longer live feeling bitter," she shares. She now prioritizes self-care, making time for the gym and friends, and is learning to grant herself permission to deviate from perfection. "I’m finally able to say, ‘No, sorry, I’m tired and I’m going to have an early night. Have whatever you want for supper; Daddy is here.’" She has discovered that when she sets these boundaries, the world does not unravel. "Teo sees that I’m a human being, that I’m not perfect, and he’s okay with that."

When asked about her happiest moments with her son, Carmen describes their nightly ritual: climbing into the same bed before Teo sleeps and unpacking the day’s events together. As Teo snuggles into the warmth of the duvet, Carmen feels a profound connection. "It’s when I truly connect with Teo and see the person I love most in the world," she says, her voice soft with emotion. "I don’t feel like a monster anymore."
If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this story, information and support can be found at the BBC’s Action Line.






