We live in a totally different world from the one our mothers inhabited. Yet no matter how far we've come when a woman is pregnant, we automatically fall into assumptions that would have been the norm decades ago, but are not necessarily relevant today.

More and more women are choosing to go through pregnancy without a partner, a fact that seems, however to remain largely unacknowledged from Doctor's surgery to pregnancy books not to mention a good proportion of society.

In an ideal world, all children would have two loving parents who lived together. In an ideal world, there'd be no such thing as child abuse, as poverty as glass ceilings, or racial discrimination.

But We don't live in a perfect world, so why do pregnancy books continuing perpetuating the fallacy that we all have loving partners on hand to make us vegemite toast, to stroke our swelling tummies, calm our fears about becoming a parent? It was something that inspired a lot of passion in me during my own pregnancy. What about women like me I wondered? Women who were doing it on their own? We were made to feel excluded at every turn. Not in an obvious way-most people are too politcally correct to be open about feeling uncomfortable about women who were obviously pregnant but with no sign of a man around. The exclusion is much more subtle than that and in made me sad and angered me equally. So I decided to do something about it.

about me

Like many women, I'd assumed children they were somewhere in my distant future, along with my perfect partner. In the meantime, I spent my 20's travelling the world. I lived in the moment, grabbing every precious experience I could. Then I woke up one morning in my thirtieth year to the realisation that 'the future' was already here and Mr Perfect still hadn't shown up. Worse still, I suddenly seemed filled with an inexplicable and intense longing for a child.

I tried hard to ignore it; I partied harder, travelled further and tried to enjoy the life I had, up 'til that point, thought was pretty damn good, but the world seemed suddenly full of beaming couples pushing prams, many of them my own friends. In my darker moments, as I sobbed into my tequila shots, and made deals with old boyfriends that if we both had no prospects by my 32nd birthday, we would get together and have a child.

Then fate intervened and in 1998, following a month's working holiday on a Greek island, I fell pregnant. I was both horrified and overjoyed (usually within the same 5 minutes). There was no prospect of getting together with the father; I wanted to return home to Australia after 10 years of living abroad and he couldn't uproot himself. Besides which we barely knew each other; ours had been a sun-fuelled holiday romance.

I spent the first few weeks of my pregnancy feeling ambivalent, until a 12 week near miscarriage made me realise how much I did want this baby, an emotion further strengthened on seeing my baby in an ultrasound for the first time. Once I gave myself permission, I spent the rest of my pregnancy feeling happy and excited at the changes happening in my life.

The only downer in my pregnancy bliss was that I didn't know any single mothers and I had lots of questions. I wanted to know how they coped; how they dispelled the occasional panic, how they deflected the awkward questions about their pregnancy. I went to the library, I went to bookshops but couldn't find anything vaguely helpful. -There was plenty of stuff on dealing with divorce and parenting after divorce, but nothing about going through pregnancy solo. It seemed that even in this enlightened day and age, pregnancy books still assumed there was a partner around, with books illustrated by pictures of loving couples and hints and tips on maintaining your sex life during pregnancy. And so, in those first few months after my son's birth, hyper with lack of sleep, I was determined to write a pregnancy book that was specifically for single women.- One that answered the questions wanted to know, that gave the single pregnant woman some assurance she was not alone.

and now ...

life as a sole parent

Nine (!) years on, my son is a happy, well adjusted and bright child, the joy of my life. I went back to uni, re-trained and now work as a journalist on a major Australian paper. I have a strong, supportive network of single girlfriends, most with their own children and have a pretty blessed life. While single motherhood really chose me, I look around me now at girlfriends whose fertile years are slipping away and I am so grateful for what I have, for not continuing to hold out for the perfect family dream. Nothing in this world is ever perfect I've learnt, except in soap operas and fairytales. However, I'm content to settle with what I have, which is pretty damn close.

pregnant and alone?

The world has changed. Even in the time since I had my son, there are so many more women than ever before who, because of all different kind of circumstances, have chosen to go it alone. While my book and this website don't try to advocate single parenthood as a choice; they simply provide an opportunity for women to know some of the facts, to hear other women's stories,and to feel less isolated if they are already going through it on their own. Be assured, there are many, many of us out there and no matter how strong and self capable we may be, everyone, every so often we all need need some reassurance. Supporting each other is what women all through the ages have always understood and hopefully will always provide. Good luck!

update

My son and I recently went to Greece, so he could meet his father for the first time. We had a pleasant time and his curiosity seems satisifed! What the future will hold in terms of further contact, I don't know, we'll see what happens.

motherhood