The really hard thing about deciding to have children is that being a parent looks completely different from the inside than it does from the outside. From the outside, it looks like all change and hard work, and that you sacrifice so much. It's easy to forget what you gain from parenting, and you can only really appreciate that gain when you actually are a parent.
Yes you lose freedom, holidays, money etc, and while you might regret those losses and complain about them, in actual fact the vast majority of parents sacrifice those things completely willingly and without any real resentment. You give up those things because you want to. That's what I found quite overwhelming as a new mum - I wanted sleep, badly, but at the same time I wanted desperately to be close to my son, to smell him and hold him. I wanted to stare at him, I didn't want him to sleep because then I might have to spend time away from him. My needing sleep came very much second to my desire to just breathe him in.
If someone told me tomorrow that he was ill and the only way to save him was to remove my right arm and leg I would say "go ahead," and feel utter relief that I could do that for him. There is no doubt in my mind that I would give my life for him - I would stand in front of a gun to save him, I would be hacked to death if that's what it took. When you feel that level of love for someone, someone who depends on you so much, it can feel like a terrible burden at times, as well as gift. I do have moments where I wish I could care less, that I could back to being carefree and I do have definite moments of envy for people who don't have children and who only have to worry about themselves.
But those moments are pretty fleeting. Because what I've lost through being a parent doesn't even being to compare to what I've gained. I have a son and I will soon, all going well, have a daughter. How can a skiing holiday be better than that? If I really wanted to ski, I could. I would have a few days of fun, and it would be great. But can that compare to being handed my very own child, the child who looks up at me like I'm the most important thing ever to have lived? Not a hope.