Going it Alone

robyn. single mother by choice

After a lengthy career in Information Technology and a few short and long term relationships,
I started feeling maternal when I was approaching my 30’s.
It seemed everyone around me was giving birth. Having always loved children, I spent a large amount of my free time
with my young nephew.
Everyone was always saying “you’re great with children, you’ll make a great mother one day”.

So when I turned 30, I started thinking seriously about my options.
Being raised by a sole parent (my father passed away when I was 9) and having many sole parent friends and family,
I was not abhorrent to the idea of raising a child alone.

(I should state here that I call myself a sole parent, as opposed to a single mother
as I am the ONLY parent of my child.)
I was, however, abhorrent to the idea of sleeping with a man
simply to conceive a child. I didn’t want to receive or carry any potentially life threatening diseases,
or pass on any unknown genetic conditions to my son-to-be.

After just over a year of thinking about the option of donor insemination,
I seriously explored how I could do it.
One doctor appointment later I was armed with a referral to a fertility
specialist. This specialist turned me down as he was connected
to a religious hospital who did not think insemination of single women appropriate.
So, I went back to my GP who referred me to another specialist within a fertility clinic.

After my initial consultation, I was surprised how easy it seemed.
I had to see a counsellor who spent 30 minutes
having a general chat about my life and expectations.

On my next specialist visit, I told him I wanted to go
ahead with it.
We picked the donor there and then (there was only around 5 to choose from
as I narrowed it down to only those who would donate to single women
and only those who don’t mind being known when the child turns 18).
I picked the donor most like me.

It was on my second intra uterine insemination attempt that I fell pregnant.
It was an uneventful pregnancy, I worked 5 days per week
until I was 38 weeks. I didn’t attend any ante-natal classes
as I was too concerned about being the only single one there.
To anyone who asked “Who’s the father?” I replied “A good friend”
which isn’t a lie..
I look upon the donor as being a very good friend, how could I not,
as he’s given me something so precious.
I did tell a few close friends, but no family or others.
I guess I fear people may think I’m “weird”.

Tyler was born in June 2001, an absolutely beautiful and perfect little boy.
I was 33. Honestly, I couldn’t have wished for any better.
Everyone has always told me “his father must be good looking” as he’s very handsome –
says a lot about me LOL.
Sole parenting has not always been easy. There are definitely times
when I wish I was partnered. And Tyler has already started asking “Do I have a daddy?”
and just the other day “Is Uncle ### my Daddy?”. It breaks my heart.

I see him look at other families when we’re out with envy.
I think its not just that he doesn’t have a father but other children.
..So. I decided last year that I’d give him a sibling.

Back to the fertility specialist I went, this time knowing the drill.
I had some of Tylers “fathers” sperm in reserve, so he would have a full sibling.
This time, things didn’t go so well.
It took me 6 months of IUI (including 4 days of blood tests before each ovulation)
and the last month I had to use fertility drugs.
I am now 6 months pregnant and Tyler and I are both very eager
to see the newest member of our family.

susannah. a last hour decision

My boyfriend and I had been seeing each other regularly for about 5 months
when I discovered I was pregnant. I suspected it very soon after
conception but didn't do a test until I went to the doctors for one a week
or two after my period was due.
I felt scared, nervy, excited, and elated. I was delaying confirming the pregnancy
as I was enjoying the sense of anticipation! I did tell the father that
it was a possibility, and I broke the news to him the night
after I had been to the doctor and it was confirmed.
I was careful not to put pressure on him, saying that it was OK if he didn't want to be involved,
I could deal with it on my own.
(What a sap!! Thinking of others before myself! But good practice for motherhood I guess.)
We both didn't say much for a while, then he/we started to
talk about some plans for the future - names, schools, childcare, etc.
He stayed the night, then a few days later came over to say he had been thinking more about it,
and we should move in together.
I was extremely happy thinking it was all going to work out perfectly -
I would have my baby, and the man I was in love with.
He said he still needed to do some more thinking (I assumed about the details, timing etc)
and went away for a weekend shortly afterwards.

On his return, he told me that he might not move in with me,
and I should think seriously about the implications of that for the pregnancy.
I was pretty upset, but thought this sort of ambivalence was maybe understandable - and he has quite a
history of ambivalence and inability to commit.
I went to visit my family for a week, and didn't tell them about the pregnancy:
I was no longer sure I was going to have the baby
(I really, really didn't want to be a single parent, it just didn't fit my plans for my life)
and they would both have been extremely upset at the thought of an abortion, especially as there
was no strong reason NOT to have the baby
- he would be loved, I was reasonably financially secure.
The father called me a few times while I was in Melbourne, to see
if I was OK - I was quite scared that I was being 'left' alone to deal
with it all so was pleased he was calling.
I still had hope that he would move in with me and we would raise the baby together.

On my return home I went to see an obstetrician, despite my uncertainty about what to do.
(In hindsight I think I was following my instincts). I had booked in as soon as I knew
I was pregnant as you have to to get the one you want - with no idea he would actually do a scan!
I was quite in love with my baby by then - about 9 weeks pregnant.
I showed the father the photo too.
Around that time, he told me he definitely wasn't moving in, and that the
pregnancy was a "####### disaster",
that he was not ambivalent, but very definite.

I was shattered - I loved and wanted my baby, but didn't want to do it alone
- also, I was really upset about the father being so upset.
We went to a few counselling sessions, though I think I was too distressed
for them to be much good - you can't be rational when you are so extremely
emotional, in my experience!

I said I would have an abortion, but that the father had to pick me up
and take care of me for a few days afterwards - I thought he had to know what he was causing here,
and know my pain.
Silly, but it didn't seem so at the time.
Interestingly the counsellor saw me separately for the last visit and said she
thought the father had some pretty serious issues and was not a good person to be involved
in a relationship with - something that has become clearer and clearer to me over time!
Ah, love is blind….at the time I thought this was most unethical of her.
I made an appointment to terminate the pregnancy,
after much angst and discussion with a very supportive close friend.
I went along to the clinic (at 11 and a half weeks pregnant),
and sobbed my way through several interviews
- counsellor, anaesthetist, surgeon, etc.
I was in absolute agony, have never experienced anything like it. I
feel really upset just thinking about it now.
I went into the operating theatre a few hours after arriving there, and sat down on the table.
The anaesthetist put antiseptic on my hand and was about to insert a needle when I started saying
'ooohhh, ooohh, I don't know…."
And luckily a nurse noticed and said "come on, I think you need a bit more time".
I said yes. Went out, got dressed, and sat crying in the change room til the counsellor came back in.
We had a chat, and I felt the most immense relief I have ever experienced.
I knew without any doubt at all that I loved and wanted my baby and that however hard it might be,
I could do it on my own. Whatever the impact on my life, I was taking responsibility
for protecting and loving my little one.
It was pure instinct and the ONLY thing that helped me
make the right decision. None of the adding up pros and cons,
or counselling, or anything, was helping me -
that I had felt so bad about the decision to terminate told me that.
To know now that I was absolutely sure was so fantastic.
I walked out of there on a huge high. I went home, cried and laughed for a bit on my own,
then picked up the phone and called my parents, told them I was having a baby.
They were thrilled, and a bit overcome with emotion too.

A little later I called the father and told him there was no need to pick me up from the clinic,
I hadn't done it. I told him I couldn't talk about it now, was too upset
- would talk in a few days. I was quite shaken by how close losing my baby had been.
He said he wasn't that surprised, he thought I might not be able to go through with it.

I didn't start telling people til the next week -
The support shown to me by friends,
family, acquaintances and colleagues was phenomenal
and made it much easier for me to cope.
Of course I still had days spent sobbing in the toilets at work,
nights crying myself to sleep - more about the loss of the father, for my
baby's sake as well as mine - than fear of single parenting now.
I knew we would be OK but I missed him so much and
felt awful for my baby growing up without a father.
And worse, I began to hear that he was saying some pretty awful things about me.
(To make himself feel better about his behaviour, and to try to justify it to others,
he had to make himself believe that I was the villain, he the victim).
In the later stages of the pregnancy he even started attacking me personally - with letters and on the phone
- telling me I was insane, a liar, selfish and stupid,
in keeping my baby. That I should give my baby up for adoption.
He even asked for a DNA test, which we did.
God I was angry about that.
But this would at least make him realise he did have some responsibility, or so I thought!
I also had a lovely time thinking about the future with my baby -
what he or she would be like, what we would do together -
though at times I really felt the lack of someone to share this with,
someone who also felt the depth of love I felt for my baby.

During the pregnancy I read everything I could get my hands on
about pregnancy and parenting newborn babies:
internet sites such as www.babycentre.co.uk with their bulletin boards,
and books - Kaz Cooke's Up the Duff was my
bible. I didn't find that much on single parenting specifically,
and the internet community boards were a real help
to me, just asking and getting advice from other people
in the same situation. Just knowing there were other people in the same situation
made me feel a little more normal, too.

My son is two now, and my life is much richer for his presence.

He is the love of my life.

I now have a career, a social life (a much happier one than before), and most importantly a home full of love.

We don't see his father: he saw him regularly for about six months, but that stopped suddenly a year ago.

I've no idea why, no more than I understand all of
his inconsistencies and rewriting of history.
Speaking for myself, my life has been a lot less stressful since not having any contact with him.

motherhood