I don't regret it for a moment.
I've tried to help many elderly homeless people, mostly women, reconnect with their adult children when they needed help. My efforts have met with wildly varying degrees of success. I failed more often than I succeeded and I learned a valuable lesson from it. People worry about whether or not their children will be healthy, whether they'll be smart or talented, whether they'll have a rough time in life, but they don't spend near enough time worrying whether or not their children will be selfish a-holes incapable of feeling love for anyone but themselves.
I've also struggled a lot financially myself and I've seen what happens to the children of people who struggle financially. I know what doing without is like. I know what happens to children and teens on the street. I love any potential child I might have had to subject him or her to the things I've survived.
I was married to a gay man who wanted me to have his children. If I had been able to and had had children with him, I have no idea what would have happened to them when our relationship fell apart. Also, the things that made me leave him would have been very unhealthy for children. Children don't thrive living with dominant, controlling people with no tolerance for imperfections or differences any more than adults do.
Then my lupus hit full strength before I even reached age forty. I couldn't have been a good single parent after losing my job, my physical strength, and my health to illness.
Over the years, I've taken young people into my home when their parents discarded them, mostly for being gay. I've written chapters for textbooks, read during children's story hours, painted little faces and made balloon animals, babysat while parents looked for work, mentored teens, and taught classes to children. I've enjoyed the company of the children of friends immensely, too.
I do not regret not saddling any new human beings I'd be certain to love with my lousy genes, my financial problems, and my struggles with autism.