Should I regret my choices? Is it even okay?

I question my choices a lot. What to do now? About what I did in the past. I feel heaviness, failure.  Other people post happy photos. Other people tell happy stories. I complain. I cry.

I sometimes regret becoming a mother. I know I am a bad mother or at least not as good as I’d like to be.  No one compliments mothers, or at least no one compliments me. 

I loathe my body.  I gained 40 pounds plus 20 pounds of baby while pregnant. I am still obese 16 months later. I weigh 190 pounds. I got stretch marks in the last few weeks. I felt ruined-irreplaceable damaged. I look at my body now and I cry.  I cover up and single moms of a small child don’t have many opportunities or reasons to undress.

So, I have regrets. I say, why couldn’t I have made different choices in 2014 or 2015? Because everyone loves their child, right?  But is loving someone that will never be truly grateful actually enough. So, I am a horrible mother.
I miss talking to adults.  I wish I could go on dates, or even just visit friends. But I had to move 2040 miles away from my pre-pregnancy life.

Sometimes I wonder if I should have given my son away in adoption.  After all, I am a failure and a terrible mother. And also I’m lonely in this isolated life.  I start to miss a guy that only dated me when I was thinner, when I weighed less-60 pounds less.  A guy that stopped loving me in 2013.  Before I made the poor choices that led me to being an awful single mother.

The worst part is I thought I wanted to be a mom. But in rare moments of silence and quiet, I question that belief.  I wonder if I was right? I wonder if other mothers regret their transformed (destroyed) bodies. I wonder if other mothers regret their child because of difficulty accepting their new lifestyle.  I wonder if my family will always only consist of two until I am completely alone again. Do I even have a right to regret?  

Should I regret my choices? Is it even okay?