My mother didn't have the urge and I wrecked her life (well having sex in 1959 did actually). I spent my childhood being told I was unwanted and how much better her life would be if she hadn't got pg and hadn't had to marry my dad. He was a nice man, she worked, plenty of money and help.
I cannot remenber a time when I did not want children. My life's ambition was to be a mummy.
But, first I had a career (not really planned) in the City. Bought a flat, then a house, travelled a bit, had a fantastic wardrobe, car, freedom. Met DH, had two DC, had several years at home. Went back to work p/t when youngest entered y1. Second career took off.
Having children is wonderful. I had so much fun when they were little: leaf kicking, watching them grow, waiting for Harry Potter books and films, the museums, jumping waves, teaching them to read, their colours, blowing bubbles, looks of wonder and that soft, arm curled unconditional love that comes with it.
Hearing them now chat about philosophy, swap books, coming in from clubbing at 5am (they still keep us awake) is just as marvellous. Taking dd back to uni today - discovering new cities, taking in the Cam.
Seeing them grow and mature and start to travel the world.
It's bloody marvellous op but if you don't feel it, don't do it. My mother should never have had a child but fortunately I was/am resilient enough to get over it and take from it that you never, ever mess your kids about. DD is emotionaly frailer and far more perceptive and would have been damaged so don't do it.
But if my mother hadn't the world wouldn't have the two amazing young people I have nurtered on the brink of living independent lives and contributing to society..........