Six months ago, a friend asked me if I regretted not having children and it was like a great dam bursting from the bottom of my soul, and I said "yes, yes, it was the biggest mistake of my life!" There it was. The secret wrenched from my gut. Or so it seemed. I do regret it in some ways. We would have been good parents. We wouldn't have screwed up the kids as badly as we thought we would have. Maybe they only would have needed five years of therapy and not 10. I'll never know.