Sophie will never admit to the relief she feels when she finds out she won’t give Nate another son, nor to the prayers of thanks she leaves in Church when little Jemma turns out healthy despite the odds Sophie’s own age lay against it.
Sophie and Nate’s daughter is going to grow up the most protected little girl in the universe. Only Olivia Sterling is perhaps similarly protected, but Jemma is the one who’ll have Eliot and Alec and Parker as her godparents and by virtue of their and her parents’ combines skills she will approach majority not only safe and secure but also capable of protecting herself and others as well as self-sufficient.
If the five of them do their jobs right she will never be forced to actually use what she knows for anything but fun.
Parker doesn’t want kids. She doesn’t want the change to her body, she doesn’t want to be slowed down, and no matter how much Alec and Eliot have come to love her, she doesn’t want to risk passing on the weirdness that’s in her head to a kid. (That’s the part she never tells Alec about. Luckily, since he is firm on her body being her own, he never fishes for another explanation.)
So Parker doesn’t have kids. What she does have, a few years into excelling as her own team’s mastermind, is a considerable number of adolescents that have her number. She is careful not to repeat Archie’s mistake – every kid that calls her up as a mentor is treated as equally important.
Nobody lives with the three of them beyond staying in a building Alec owns for a time. The legal connection between them is that between aliases and so varies, and outside a con none of them ever call Parker “Mom”. Yet Parker is proud of them and of herself, Eliot relishes evading actual fatherhood this way, the kids trust them, and Alec is happy enough whenever he presents his Nana with another great-grandchild.