Sleep evades me once again, so I've been reading threads that interest me tonight.
Having children is a very, very personal decision...provided that decision is made beyond the back seat of a car or without the aid of an intoxicant.
I had a very dysfunctional childhood. Became the "parent" of my 4 younger siblings when I was 8-years-old. That should've been enough to "cure" me from wanting children of my own, since I never really had a childhood. Strangely, I wanted children from the time I was in elementary school. Buck always said I was a born mother.
My daddy was a doctor and I clearly remember asking him when I was about 13-years-old if there was a test that could be administered that could tell me if I could have children or not. He told me there was one but that it was costly and somewhat painful. Bear in mind this was in the mid-60s.
So...I married for the first time at 19. To a widower with a 4-year-old son. Shortly into the marriage we tried to conceive. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Went to a doc. He told me it would be unlikely I'd ever have children due to a condition with my ovaries. I was heartbroken. Yet, he said, he'd order a series of tests to evaluate the severity of my condition. And, yes, my daddy was correct. The tests were expensive and not the most comfortable thing I'd ever experienced.
It was determined that I was a candidate for one of the earlier fertility drugs. It was either that or have surgery to have a "wedge" cut out of my ovaries to allow my eggs to escape in order to be fertilized. I opted for the drug.
Joy of joys, I became pregnant with my first son. However, it wasn't easy sailing because the pregnancy was, shall I say, challenging. Thankfully, in December 1970 we welcomed our son, who was healthy and sound.
Fast forward several years later. Wanted more children. Each one was gained via fertility drugs. By 1974 I'd had son, daughter, son. Tried for a 4th child. No dice but, by then, my marriage was in the toilet. Husband, as it turned out, had multiple girlfriends, roached our finances, was dealing child porn, and, ultimately, was fired from his secured government job.
Back up one year, in 1973 my daddy died suddenly and I became the legal guardian of my two younger sisters, aged 12 and 13. Now I had 5 children in the house and I was only 24-years-old.
In 1976 I became a single mom. I was a basket case and had been beaten down so much by my husband I was amazed Buck even looked at me twice.
Buck came with baggage, too. Not a pretty first marriage either and two young sons about the same age as my two oldest. Somehow it all meshed.
To use a cliche, we became the Brady Bunch and, again, I had a houseful of children. I loved it. Buck only had one younger brother and he discovered how much fun a goofy, large family could be. But, it's not for everyone.
Thankfully, all 5 of the children are close. Have been together since they were about 2-years-old, so they've grown up together. Celebrated birthdays together, shopped for Christmas presents together, etc. We were blessed because blended families are the things nightmares are made of.
I wish I had a penny for every time Buck said I was meant to be a mother. I'd be rich beyond imagination. I loved it when he said that.
This is my story and I'm sticking to it. I'm blessed that all the children are here for me and even though Buck's sons weren't born under my heart, they are in my heart and always will be.
For those folks who choose not to have children, you make your choice because you feel it's best for you and I respect that. Being a parent is not for everyone, but it's perfect for me.
I seriously doubt anyone who bothers to frequent a site about cooking is one of those parents. 
