thinking

Happy New Year!

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 18:05:00 +0000

Did you know we have an amazing e-book on the website this week....the best insights, expert tips and stories of the new-and-improved ChoiceMoms.org in 2010.

Check it out here

Mikki

VISIT THE NEW FORMAT

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 24 May 2010 17:09:00 +0000

Note that in February 2010 the ChoiceMoms.org website moved to a more dynamic format that enables us to add daily blogs to the website itself in each category of the Choice Mom journey -- with even more bells and whistles that includes audio clips, sponsor deals, event details and more.

Visit the Thinking section there at:
http://www.choicemoms.org/thinking/2

Mikki

Why I chose "no" to single motherhood

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 21:12:00 +0000

This is from Shelley, who has opted not to become a Choice Mom. It's so hard to find the voices of those who leave the community, so I am grateful to her for letting me post her story:

I never really wanted to become a single mother by choice but because of the tick tick tick I was felt really pressured to make a decision - yes or no. I had many people pushing me to do it.

I have always been a natural mother and never imagined I would be single in my late 30's facing this AWFUL decision. I had a successful career and dating has been a challenge but I always was sure that my destiny was to be married and have a family and that I just had to trust that it would happen.

At about 38 I decided I had to actually seriously investigate having children by myself so I could forgive myself in the future if I changed my mind. I ordered your book and a few others and read them all cover to cover. I even went online and did a little research into sperm donors. Turns out you can buy some pretty damn impressive sperm, which I have to admit looks like a cakewalk compared to dating and finding a good mate. I felt humiliated and depressed that I would even have to consider this option - look at how many losers are having babies that shouldn't even be moms.

I had looked into freezing my eggs at 37 when it first became available to the public but at that point they were only working with women under 35 - another insult. A few months before turning 39 a friend said 'why don't you freeze your eggs' and I told her it was not available at my age and she challenged that...so I did a little bit of research and found that 45 minutes from my home there was a doctor that would work with me. I did 2 rounds to get 11 eggs and it was the best $20,000 I spent.

This was a huge commitment. I was really going to have children no matter what. I had gone the extra distance and there was NO guarantee that my eggs would work when I wanted to use them. And of course I was still holding hope that I would get to do it the old-fashioned way with the right guy... but I knew when I made that decision that I was totally committed to having a family some way. I still thought that if I did not find a mate by 40 that I would go ahead and have one baby on my own - referring to my frozen eggs and "baby number 2."

But something happened in that year. I had a family trauma come up and I realized that I could not imagine raising children by myself. In the most perfect of times it would be sad and lonely and feel selfish to have put my needs over my child's. But in times of drama or trauma I needed a partner. I knew that I couldn't do it.

I decided that who the father of my children is was the most important thing. That even if I have to do 10 rounds of IVF and then try to use my eggs and then try donor eggs and then on to adoption there are options to have a baby with an amazing man and that my children deserved that.

I am still seeking that man. And, at 41 1/2, the tick tick tick is pretty hard to deal with. It really is like a biological monster sometimes, but I know I made the right decision. Men are so happy to hear about my freezing of my eggs.

I might add to all of this that I lost my biological father to suicide. I have an amazing stepfather, but the loss of a father at an early age makes you realize how hard it is on families to not have a father.

I don't judge anyone for their decision - but for me this is what is right.

Jealousy and judgment during the holidays

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 19:50:00 +0000

The holidays can be a heightened time to feel jealousy about other lives around you, or judgment from family members who don't approve of single parenting. Judgment and jealousy is the topic of the "Choosing Single Motherhood" radio show that goes online December 6. And it's a topic showing up on the Choice Mom discussion board these days.

One woman posted about her emotions -- wishing she had more of what she saw others with, including wishing she didn't have to be Thinking about Choice Motherhood. Here are a few responses to her post.

Including one from Heather, age 36:
My ex-boyfriend and I broke up this past February after 4 1/2 years together. He led me to believe that there would be a proposal and children coming soon so I kept hanging on. I felt incredibly angry that I was in this situation, but I directed a lot of the anger towards him. I was miserable and very depressed until I started looking into my options about becoming a single mother by choice. I was in the thinking stage for about 6 months as I worked on mourning the relationship. I actually had a rougher time being around pregnant woman before my break-up because it felt like having a child was so far away. After I started thinking about trying to conceive, I felt like I had this big opportunity that I never thought of before. Now, as I'm TTC I feel more jealous when I see families together or happily married couples (my neighbor just got married and I caught myself thinking for about a half an hour "Why isn't that me?"). I'm trying to focus on the thing that I really want now, which is a baby, and the jealousy/anger of my relationship ending is subsiding because I feel like I'm doing something about my future.

Wrote Lori:
I think what you're feeling is very normal, and part of the process of grieving over the loss of "the dream." I'm still in the thinking stage too, but the biggest hurdle for me is financial. I have my dream job as a biologist, but the paycheck is not steady and the jobs are intermittent (I'm a contractor) and I'm having trouble letting that go to have a child (I know it wouldn't be fair to the child to have such an unstable life). My biggest frustration is that I feel like I have to choose between a career I love in order to have a baby and I'm not ready to do that. Luckily, though I'd love to have a biological child, I find the idea of adoption as rewarding as having a biological child, so I don't have a biological clock clanging in my head. I feel like, if I were to have a baby now, it would be because I'm running out of time and that's just not a good enough reason for me.

My neighbour is very pregnant, due any day now and my brother and his wife are expecting twins in the spring. It seems like I really notice pregnant women now like I never did before, though I can't say I have trouble being around them. I've noticed that my internal dialogue with myself is often a fantasy of becoming a single mother, rather than meeting Mr. Right. It's like I've given up on Mr. Right at 34. I like the idea of a healthy, happy relationship - and I know plenty of people in one (and plenty of people in an unhealthy and miserable relationship) - but I can't seem to find it or make it happen so I've felt like I've sort of moved on and am creating my new dream. It helps me feel like I have more control of my life, whether it's true or not!

When I'm confused about something, I usually ask myself what I really want to do if I felt no one would judge my choice and if it was possible. Then I think of the steps it would take to get me there and I do it one step at a time. Ask yourself what's important to you in the big picture. Is it the lack of knowing how supportive your family would be? I know that my mother would be very upset if she knew I was thinking of having a baby on my own - but I also know she would love that baby like no other once the baby arrived. I find that once I've committed to something and believe in myself, no one can really derail me because I've already thought about all their arguments against it. Where I get frustrated is when I haven't completely made up my mind.

I hope this helps - if it didn't really help, just know that there are thinkers on this list who feel pretty stuck and sometimes frustrated too.

What about you? What emotions are you feeling this holiday season?

We don't need the guy to chop down trees

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 20:29:00 +0000

There was some great insight on the Choice Mom discussion board today, in response to a few women who are struggling with mixed feelings about embarking on the Choice Mom journey. One woman, in fact, suggested that taking this step makes her feel like a failure for not being able to find a partner and a second parent for her future child. To this, Caroline, who gave me permission to reprint here, responded:

I wouldn't look at it like a failure that you can't meet someone good enough, but as a testimonial to you as a successful and independent woman that you've got higher expectations and are not willing to settle for just anyone. (Almost) ANYONE can meet someone to marry and have kids with. But that's not our goal.

The CEO of a Fortune 500 company does not consider it a failure on his part (or his company's part) that most applicants who apply do not meet their criteria and are therefore rejected. So why should you (or I) for finding a mate? At least companies can layoff and fire employees if they don't work out. We can't. If we have a child with this person, we're tied to them for life.

Frankly, because women have gained more rights and have been allowed to compete equally with their male counterparts in the past few decades, I'm not the least surprised that we've reached this point where Choice Motherhood/SMC is a viable and healthy option and even a preferred route for many women.

Traditionally, women needed the guy to have a family, to help manage the house and life, just like they've needed the dozen kids to tend to the fields. But lifestyles and opportunities have obviously changed. We don't need the dozen kids and we don't need the guy to chop down the trees.

And when you're down, google "divorce rates" or "divorce custody fights."

Give up a relationship?

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 20:22:00 +0000

Nothing can be harder for many women than deciding whether to give up a relationship with someone who doesn't want children in order to become a Choice Mom. Many women are coming to the Choice Mom discussion board with just that situation. Here's one of those stories, with her query about how other women in this situation have decided whether a relationship or a child was ultimately most important to her.

I'm 32, new here and awfully glad I found this group! Three years ago, I fell for this amazing guy. He has two kids from a previous relationship and was perfectly positive that he didn't want any more, so he had a vasectomy. I never thought I would have my own kids so we started this wonderful story together.

About a year ago, baby thoughts started to creep up on me. I pushed them away, freaking myself out each time. Recently, my boyfriend and I discussed buying a house together and I find myself torn. I don't know if I want a baby. So I asked him what would happen if I was to want one in a couple of years (even if I was to have it on my own, with donor).

It came down to this: You want a baby, I can't live through that again, so I would understand your need to move on without me; OR you need to be sure that you are okay with the fact that if we build our life together, we won't have a baby in the house, ever.

I never imagined having those baby thoughts when we first started dating. After searching for "the one," I found him. Now, I have to decide between my "one" or a baby that I'm not 100 percent that I want yet (still on the fence).

I have a hard time picturing my life with a baby, but I also can't really picture it without. How did you women know that you truly wanted a baby?

From vacillating thinker to elated tryer...

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 20:45:00 +0000

submitted by Susan

I joined the Choice Mom discussion board several months ago and was in the thinking stage. I am now about to start trying. I started my initial workups last December then stopped to date some more and now I am back.

For those that are in the thinking stage, one thing I wish I'd done was written down all the things I was feeling and worried about. Because honestly, now I can't remember what they were...I just remember it being a good six months of angst and anxiety and depression. Is it just me, but have other tryers gotten this serene, peaceful feeling after you've made this decision? After I decided this (and it stuck) everything else kind of lock-stepped into place. It's almost like you stop fighting the universe and everything starts to make sense.

Honestly, I think this is the greatest idea since sliced bread. I am so happy. I get to decide when to get pregnant (hopefully it will work!). I get to decide how to decorate the nursery, how to set up the college fund, what to name the baby, etc. I think it's so...cool.

For whatever reason that sense of loss about "I don't have this guy in my life" is replaced by this sense of happiness. Maybe it's that I'm taking control of my life and putting me first. Not sure. But in any case, I'm so excited (in a terrified, life-changing kind of way).

My period is supposed to start today (never have I wanted one so much!) and then they start me on Clomid because I have a 21-23 day cycle and they want to even it out. So, here's hoping.

Now that I'm at this stage I'm just so happy. I never expected this to feel so rock solid right. I was someone who vacillated back and forth between "no way" and "this is my only option" for a good six months (and before that I thought about it "lightly" for a good year).

One thing I may add is that I completely expect to panic a little when I get the BFP. My sister, who wanted kids since birth and took two years to get pregnant, said she did. I think it's a natural reaction to any life-changing event.

What about anyone else out there? Does it just feel rock solid right?
In some weird way, this feels like it was meant to be.

My Unanswered Question

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 18 May 2009 08:30:00 +0000

submitted by Marynell

It is so strange that I have now reached an age where having a baby remains on my mind so often. I can’t remember ever not planning to have children. I had baby dolls, teddy bears, and puppies who were my surrogate children. My favorite toys were my Sunshine Fun Family. They were exactly what I wanted and did not have: mom, dad, two cute kids. It's still what I want and sadly do not have.

In college, I was thinking of dates and degrees. A family was for someday. When I married, I really thought that someday was almost here, but my husband said someday was still further away. Then I got pregnant and quickly miscarried. At the time mixed with the sorrow was a relief: we weren’t ready. How many times had he said that? I was still developing my career and after all, we had plenty of time.

Then he left. I was thirty and starting over. Grieving my marriage, I still wasn’t quite frantic yet; after all I still had plenty of time. I hoped that I’d meet someone new and fall madly in love. We’d get married and have a houseful of children (it’s amazing how that number has changed depending on the situation over the years).

It’s been eight years and there’s still no one new. I constantly hear the tick-tock of that loud metaphorical clock. It says I no longer have plenty of time. I find myself constantly researching “options.” I know what I want: a child. What is the best way?

I have found sperm banks and browsed their donor lists. I have contacted an infertility clinic about artificial insemination, such a yucky term. I have read endlessly about adoption.

I am torn. I want a child; I want a husband; I want a family. Of these three, the one I feel the least compelled about and have the least control over is the husband. I do not think I will ever feel complete if I do not have a child to call me “Mama.” The very thought cuts to the very essence of who I am.

I do not know which way to go.

I used to only think about adoption. I knew that there were so many unwanted children in the world. Wouldn't a one-parent home be better than having no parents? I have so much to offer this un-parented child: a safe home, plenty of love and dedication, and my intense desire to parent.

I know that I could love a child not biologically my own, but would I later regret not having the experience? The thoughts circle endlessly around my head.

I could adopt later if I chose, but sadly, there will probably not be a later for a biological child. Now that I am almost out of time, I cannot get the idea out of my head. I want to be pregnant! I desperately want to feel a little person growing inside me. I want to name someone. It’s not really the desire to pass my genetic material forward but to be there from the beginning with someone -- highly unlikely in a single-parent adoption.

Where did all of these thoughts come from? They were hiding somewhere for a while, but they came creeping back as my 38th birthday approached. Now they are constantly with me. I feel so confused and torn. I want both and truly fear having neither.

I try to go on with my life and only share these thoughts and questions with close friends. I get widely divergent advice from these friends. Each has his or her own view of what is right. So I am no further than six months ago. To procreate or not procreate? That is my very personal question, but I still do not have an answer.

Unwed is not the same as Unprepared

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 01:24:00 +0000

The Choice Mom board recently had a discussion about how a CNN article recently described us as "unwed." Some women didn't particularly like the term, since it implies a lack that we don't all feel. Like saying someone is un-blonde, instead of brunette. Some wondered, why not simply call us single, without implying that we're supposed to be something else? Here's one response to the thread from Pamela, 39.

I so agree with the neg. tone of 'unwed.' Funny how technically at the moment I'm a spinster! Single mom, I'm okay with that, but there are so many ways to become a single mom and each road has different social acceptance and different levels of sympathy or in some cases stigmas. I personally prefer to look at it this way:

I was raised being told I could do anything, and though the road was often more challenging as a woman, the road was not blocked (for the most part). The rewards along the way for milestones achieved are still less than my male counterparts, but I'm allowed to walk a road my grandmother was forbidden to travel. I was raised to be independent in thought and action. I was encouraged to follow my dreams and let my spirit guide me. Attending college was not an option -- it was expected, and I was the first woman on both sides of the family to obtain a degree. I am a confident, successful, smart, good-looking woman who by popular belief must by 'broken' in some way as I haven't found a man to marry.

No, I'm not broken, I'm not wounded, I'm not needy. I am the product of a generation of women who were raised believing the world was their oyster. A generation of independent, confident women that society shaped and formed, while forgetting that the boys they were raising alongside these amazing smart and talented girls were not being raised much differently than their fathers -- and when these boys became men and they looked for their mates, they saw women who did not fit the qualities they were programmed to look for in a wife. They saw qualities to pass over.

So am I broken or is it that lens in which men view me that has been curved incorrectly, such that the beauty of an independent woman is not seen? Society shaped me, encouraged career development and beliefs that I could have it all -- career and family. Yet when I achieve career, and family is nowhere to be found, and I pore as much effort into finding a man as I did into my career, I'm still left empty handed. Yet, I view the lack of a man as yet another obstacle in the long journey of my life and begin to develop a work-around. Donor insemination to the rescue, something that's been kept in the closet for unfortunate couples having issues with fertility is now my saving grace.

I like thinking of myself as going down the road towards being an independent mom, because I do not plan to be dependent on social assistance. Save it for the single, UNwed mothers who are UNemployed/UNderemployed and UNable to provide for their children/self and Dependent on others for their needs.

I may be single and thus unwed as I approach motherhood, but I am also independent and will be an independent mom!

In hindsight, what would you do differently?

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 06:00:00 +0000

A 40-year-old woman, new to the Choice Mom discussion board, said it was time for her to make a conscious decision about her future instead of letting nature decide. She had read "Choosing Single Motherhood," taken the Clomid challenge, and was still wrestling with whether she could possibly raise a baby on her own. She asked: "For all of you who have been through the Thinking stage already, what are the top three things you wish you would have known or done while you were in your decision-making process?"

Many of the answers were the same, which is worth pointing out here:

Said one woman: "I wish I would have started SOONER! I was stuck in my ambivalence phase for so long that I let YEARS go by. Precious, precious years that could have resulted in an easier time getting pregnant. Now I am 42 and on my second IVF cycle....waiting to see what will happen. So yeah, SOONER. For example, back in May I went to my clinic and made my decision to try but I didn't actually do the first cycle until November. I should have done it right away. And more specifically, I wish I'd tried getting pregnant say 3 years ago when my eggs were probably a lot more viable. So, my advice is: DO IT NOW!"

Replied Cathi: 1) I wish I would have gotten healthier (lost weight, been in better shape, made better food choices) before conceiving. 2) I wish I would have saved more money. I did pretty well at paying off student loans and my car, but I still blew a lot, especially on setting up the nursery. I should have used Craigslist more for baby stuff, and not bought 1/10 of the baby clothes I did in my excitement! 3) I wish I'd relaxed and enjoyed the pregnancy more. I had a lot of stress going on with my living situation at the time (I moved when I was 7 1/2 months pregnant), and spent a lot of nights in the tub sobbing with worry and maybe a little self-pity. I wish I could've been more grateful that I was healthy and expecting a baby instead of stressed about money and caregivers and my boss and not having a partner and where I was going to live!

For me, I didn't wish I'd done it sooner - this was the right time for me, and I was at the right place in my life with work and family etc.

Said Jeanne: "I will be 41 this week and started this whole process a few days before I turned 40. I've had 4 IUI's with AD, resulting in one chemical pregnancy and one pregnancy that miscarried at 12 weeks. I wish I had: started earlier; not worried so much about choosing the "perfect" donor; and not worried about what others might think or say. The things that seemed so important to me at the beginning of the journey really aren't as important anymore. All that matters now is getting and staying pregnant! Good luck on your journey!

Said one 42-year-old: 1) I wish I would have started motherhood earlier. 2) I wish I would have NOT gotten married to Mr. Wrong ‘under the influence’ of the biological clock. (which ended up inflicting custody hell on my son). 3) I wish I were younger and financially better off, so I could have one more child.

Said Denise: 1. I wish I would have NOT married my ex-husband. 2. I wish I would have met my real soulmate several years ago and had kids with him and/or I wish I would have become an SMC years ago. 3. I wish I would have won a lottery.

Said Sharon: I wish I had started ttc when I started thinking - when I was 30. Instead I waited for Mr. Right. Bad decision. Now I'm 36 and wishing I had started a long time ago. I didn't realize how long it would take for me to get pregnant.

Said the Choice Mom of a toddler: I wish I would have started earlier. I wish I would have started T42 earlier. I wish I would have known how little I'd miss my freedom -- I'd been really worried about that, but it's not that big of a deal. I wish I would have had a laundry tub when she was a baby! Honest to god they poop all over everything when they are little.

Speaking from experience...let yourself doubt

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 14:45:00 +0000

submitted by Lily, the Choice Mom of one, at my request....because I think we have plentiful advice and insight that tells us this is a great step to take, and need to also hear from women about why it might not be the right choice for everyone:

When Mikki asked me to write this blog, I thought it would be easy. However, just like the choice I made, it's not at all. I'm not sure how to say what I want to say without appearing hostile, dejected, or down on motherhood. I just really want to make sure that those who are thinking about this choice do their darndest to be honest with themselves.

I always feel a bit obligated to bring up the other side of the coin in discussions with Thinkers and Choice Moms, not because I think I did the wrong thing, but we're under so much pressure to not show any weakness or doubt about what we've done. We can worry that we might give those who don't like what we did ammunition. Or we feel like we have no right to complain because we chose to do this, and to say you have reservations opens us up to "I told you so's" or proof we were wrong somehow.

I openly call what I did "Plan B" and don't pretend to myself or anyone else that I see this as the pinnacle of motherhood. I still think kids are better off in two-parent homes in an ideal world. But as is evident by my choice, I just don't think that ANY two parents are better than just one. There are more screwed up families out there than I can count because of that idea.

I am now the mother to a wonderful little boy. Despite that, I'm still not sure I did the right thing for me. I never ever wanted to do this alone, but felt forced into it by circumstances -- the calculus that I saw at the time was "by holding out for what I really want, I'm very likely to end up with nothing. Let's do something."

I had to go down fighting. I suspect I have a harder time dealing with the choice because I know I still harbor some resentment at the universe, or fate, or whatever, that it came down to this. I understand that I have to let some of the anger go. And, while I'm making a lot of progress, it's not always a linear progression and it can crop up from time to time.

I know I had to give up the dream (possibly for now, possibly forever) of having a "family." I know many Choice Moms -- and other single parents -- consider themselves and a child a family, but in my mind a family involves a companion relationship for me as well.

I'm an only child, which I did not like. And I am rather concerned that my son will have even less of a family than I have (and mine is small), with no aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, etc. I really would have liked him connected to a larger family unit than we've got.

I also wanted to have a real 'grown-up life," with companionship, children, and a different experience than I have as a single person. I've been independent, organized, stable, and together my whole life. I know darn well I don't need anyone to take care of me. But just once in a while I'd like to not be stepping out there alone and taking care of everything.

So for all of you Thinkers, be mindful of being realistic about what you really want.

I knew I didn't want to do this alone, but I rationalized it away. My son is wonderful, but I was right that he alone doesn't fill the entire void. The void seems even deeper when you're sleep-deprived and realize there's no change on the horizon for years.

I know some single parents do find a way to meet people and date, but I don't think I will be one of them. If I couldn't do a good job of it when I didn't have a child, it's unlikely that I'll figure it out anytime soon. For me, "hard" I can do, no problem. Things need to be done, a mother needs to be responsible -- that's like falling off a log. You just do it.

It's "lonely" that gets me. The Boy is great, but if I spend one more freezing weekend in this house, with no one to talk to, nowhere to go, and no visitors, I'm selling him to the circus.

Also Thinkers -- if your communities are small and you don't have a lot of people in your life now, don't count on having a child changing it, or having people magically appear to help you out. You will be as a mother the same person you've always been, just with a child. Make sure you really are okay with that. If you're not someone who has 'transformative experiences,' don't expect this one will automatically do the trick. It may, but it may not.

I'm the person I always was, living the life I always led, just with a child. It's not a bad life by any means. But you need to be sure that you are okay if your journey ends with your same life, with the addition of a child.

Someone asked me if I would do this again. I still don't know. I get a little nervous about answering that question because I don't ever want my son to feel that I resent him, don't want him, don't love him, or any of that. That's simply not true.

On many levels, I think he's the one who's gotten the raw deal. He's the best little boy in the world (no, really :-). We're going to be just fine, and most likely better off than many around us.

I wrote my son a letter before he was born, and one thing I put in it was to reassure him that he was one of the last things left that I wanted to do. I'd traveled, had exciting jobs, lived abroad, etc. I could continue to do all those things again, but on many levels he was the last great uncharted adventure.

If that's not where you are when you make this choice, you have to figure out whether not doing those other things will eat at you.

I'm not trying to discourage anyone. I just want Thinkers to realize there's nothing wrong with you if you can't quite tell yourself that this is the best way to have children, or if you feel that this is Plan B.

It's okay to be angry -- although if all you have is anger, you may not be ready.

Don't apologize or get defensive if you make this choice. But it's also okay to not go out and evangelize Choice Motherhood either.

At the end of the day, it's no one's decision but yours.

3 strong podcasts

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 16:45:00 +0000

These three strong Choice Chat podcasts are great for women who are thinking about whether they can logistically and emotionally handle single parenthood:

Fri, 16 January 2009
Choice Mom Tricks: Part 2
Recorded at a San Francisco Bay Area networking event for Choice Moms, this show features the experience of Choice Moms founder Mikki Morrissette, the humor of author Mary Pols ("Accidentally on Purpose") and the insight of Choice Mom and therapist Felicia Shamma, as well as audience members, to discuss our fears and coping strategies.

A focus of the discussion was about finding partners in the journey -- friends, male role models, colleagues -- and the strengths, and weaknesses, we find in ourselves after we become mothers.

This show was sponsored by Pacific Fertility Center, which co-sponsored the networking event.

Tue, 6 January 2009
Choice Chat with Jennifer: support network in action
This episode features Jennifer, 8 months pregnant, who was part of a Choice Moms conversation circle that included six women talking about how we got to this stage of our journey, concerns we have for our children, how men play a role in our lives, and more.

It is a great example of the kinds of honest discussions we can and do have with each other, the thought that goes behind our decisions, and the plans we make for building the best world we can for our children.

The Choice Mom community is vast and varied and worldwide, and as this podcast allows us to hear, when we consciously reach out to each other we can be our own best support network.

This podcast was sponsored by California Cryobank, which sponsored a CD about "Answering the Daddy Question" that came out of this roundtable discussion.

Mon, 22 December 2008
Choice Mom Tricks: Part 1
In this show, recorded at a New York City networking event for Choice Moms, authors Mikki Morrissette and Louise Sloan talk about their Choice Mom journeys. What has been harder than we expected? What has been easier? What advice do we have for other single moms? What have we learned from interviewing Choice Moms and from our own personal experiences?

It also includes insight from mental health therapists Patricia Mendell and Joann Paley Galst about the rights to complain, and to ask for support.

This show was sponsored by California Cryobank, which was the gold sponsor of the New York City workshop.

Dealing with the ANGER

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 15:38:00 +0000

A woman posted on the Choice Mom discussion board that she wanted to "scream at the universe 'why me?' And I want to scream at society that this wasn't my first choice, that I played by the rules too. I want to travel back in time and tell my younger self that the rules change when you reach your thirties."

Her strong post of strong emotions struck a nerve with many women. Here's how Nataniella replied:

I could have written every one of these words, if I were half as articulate as you. Yes, yes, YES! I feel so ripped off and angry! I write about it, I talk to everyone who will listen (and some who won't), my therapist is on speed dial for the times a rush of emotion overtakes me and I have to scream it out.

And, yet, at the end of the day (or the scream-fest, or the crying jag), here I am. Dealing with what life has dealt me.

I read a lot of stories/novels/blogs from women who have fertility problems, or lost a partner, or other tragic life events in some way....it helps me to feel less alone and see that people, even once they've had the dream come true of a loving partner, marriage (and yes, the gawd-d*#d celebration with a big white dress and all that), sometimes sh!t happens and then in some other way life isn't what they asked for.

I try not to think about which dream I'd rather have NOT come true: my health, my romantic love, my work, etc. I have fulfilling, potentially lucrative work I find meaningful, which makes the world a better place, so I do remember once in a while to feel grateful for that.

So, no way over this except through it, I realize. I, too, long for the AUTHENTIC reframing, shifting of expectations, rather than just putting on a brave face and sallying forth. I guess I do a bit of both.

And somehow, I am starting to nudge myself (kicking and screaming) into a very slightly different place. A recent trip to my dad's sun-drenched retirement home had me imagining coming with baby in tow, no man, and what that might be like. Tentative discussions with dad and stepmom were supportive, even excited, for my rough plans. Again, trying to remember gratitude.

Tiring, though, isn't it?

My year-long Thinking odyssey

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 18:38:00 +0000

submitted by Emily:

I started my blood tests this month, have developed an unlikely rapport with a fertility specialist, and am moving to a better neighborhood before the year's end. All of this probably falls into the category of "trying" because I couldn't have conceived of actually doing these things a year ago. Back then, it was all baby steps...

The single most important thing I'd tell anyone starting out in this process is to give yourself a firm and generous window to think. This does two things for you right off the bat: minimizes the stress of each realization (like Scarlett, you can just think about it tomorrow), and offers up a deadline that can actually feel like a reward for your months of mental gymnastics.

I gave myself a year, and truth be told, I started easing into action a couple months early... but that just felt like extra credit. Like getting things done that weren't even on your list for the day. Gold star! And if I want to put it off I still can. That kind of permission is exactly what this Generous Thinking Window is all about.

So end of 2007, November and December, I talked about it abstractly, just a little at a time, to one friend and to myself. I bought my first books - my first step into any project. Picked up Mikki's great resource, and Knock Yourself Up, and everything else with "single motherhood" in the title. I got acquainted with the issues, started to wonder if I should use a close friend as a donor or find an anonymous one. Googled sperm banks. And it wasn't until the summer that I found the indispensable New Essential Guide to Lesbian Conception, Pregnancy and Birth and Taking Charge of Your Fertility. That's okay, there was plenty to think about.

Sometime in March or April I had an attack of cold feet when I realized that I wouldn't be able to travel for work much at all if I had a baby on my own. In a panic, I whipped around and snagged a lover and started ferociously imagining a life together. A month later I regained my senses and realized with renewed conviction how much I want to do this on my own. And that yes, there will be sacrifices.

I think the big thing that put my process back into perspective was the recognition that I won't want to travel as much. I'll want to be there as much as possible, and sometimes I won't be able to be there as much as I want to, but dragging someone else into it isn't the way to reconcile that fact. This is something every working parent has to deal with, single or not.

The metaphor that lingers, especially when I think of that time last Spring, is of my daily life flailing wildly on a rocky sea. It's a scene that I imagine with a lot of humor, only a little pathos. Because at the bottom of that sea, where the waters are still, dark, and clear, there's a gentle nurse shark making her way along in a persistent direction, unphased by the noise above. That's my gut. I have my ups and downs, but deep inside I know I'm doing what's right for me.

to read more about the nitty gritty of my process since opening the door to the trying phase, check out my blog: mydiybaby.com

Coming to terms with grief

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 04:09:00 +0000

Submitted by Roni:

I am now officially in the trying-to-conceive process, although I still find myself with thoughts of "am I making the right decision?" There's such an overlapping of emotions all the time. I continue to see-saw through the agony of deciding to raise a fatherless child.

I spent the afternoon with friends and their two-year-old boy. Inside my stomach was in knots watching the natural fusion between the child and the role each parent plays for him, and how they interact with him and each other regarding him. Sigh.

I have wrestled and struggled and belly-ached all year with my grief about having a baby without the partner. But I have entered a new phase. While taking this mourning and pain of partnerlessness seriously, I am now coming from a place of empowerment and maternal yearning. I am coming to terms with many issues (I do recommend some form of therapy to resolve the losses and the fears of becoming a Choice Mom) and accepting the fact that some things are unavoidable but we do make the decisions we make anyway.

It's why I love hearing from all the women on the Choice Mom discussion board — so much courage, so much determination, so much love to give that won't quit despite the odds and obstacles along the way.

I am honored to take my place (G-d willing soon) amongst such a supreme but exceedingly humble and human group of women.

Yes, we generally desire a partner to share with us the burden and the joy of raising a child, but even if we must defer that aspect of life for awhile, let's not defer motherhood indefinitely because we will always regret it if we miss the chance altogether.

Let's also not buy into the myth of "hello this is me, single forever." We all deserve love and companionship.

Deciding to become a single mom is not tagging myself as "unmarriageable" either by design or by resolve. I certainly have struggled with this issue, which was the main reason I couldn't proceed last year. But now I say "Believe in yourself, believe in love." When people ask "are you married?" my response is "not yet."

For some of us, it happens at 21, others 51, some succeed at 40, others dissolve at 25. There is no universal standard age for successful and fulfilling partnerships. We each have our time frame for love, but motherhood cannot wait indefinitely.

Good luck to every woman who makes the life altering choice.

One vision of a childless future

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 13:30:00 +0000

submitted by Marinela, 43, mother of a five-month-old

Do you ever have that feeling? And not just a bit but where you feel
shaken to the core?

Earlier tonight I took my son to a synagogue that I used to frequent
when I was childless as they have a great singles "meat market." They
also, it turns out, have a great children's Shabbat program - no
preaching, just songs and doing a conga type line that kids really
enjoyed, letting kids play around on stage - very fun and interactive.
I had to use the restroom afterwards, and no one was around to hold
Colin so I maneuvered to hold him and do my thing at the same time AND
wash my hands afterwards (didn't know I could do it). My back was
aching, my sprained toe was swelling up and hurting, and I was
questioning my resolve to take my son to this function.

We went into the dinner hall, and I got some food for myself while
holding Colin (all squirming 18 lbs. of him). My plate was already
full by the time someone offered to hold him. I sat down at a table with
a lot of other people and tried to engage in conversation, but somehow
it didn't click. So I sat and looked around at the mostly father+mother
+kid(s) families around me while eating and bottle-feeding Colin,
feeling sorry for myself.

Then I noticed a woman coming into the room and taking out her wallet
to pay the dinner fee. She was older, in her 60s, and wearing
a rumpled beige raincoat. She got her food and sat at a table in a
corner of the room, away from everyone. There was something
indescribably sad about the sight of her sitting in a corner, not just
alone but facing away from everyone - surrounded by people chattering
away and kids laughing and screaming. I kept glancing in her direction
and finally I gave into the pull and took Colin over to her table to
sit and talk to her.

She seemed delighted to talk to someone - even stopped eating though I
asked her a couple of times to continue with her dinner. Colin got
restless rooting at my breast because it was his bedtime, but I just
soothed him becaus I didn't want to cut her off. It was as if she knew
why I'd come over... She told me that she was 66, that she'd wanted
children, but her ex-husband had diabetes and was already taking care
of nephews/nieces, and so she'd focused on her career, said she'd been
on President Clinton's council on something or other, etc. I think she
was a bit off in the head, but not anymore than any of us would get
were we to become alone and isolated. When she heard that I was a
single mother, she tried to encourage me, saying I should go to other
functions to meet a partner, and other bits of advice. After we left,
I saw her slowly crossing a street, painfully hunched over, and then
hailing a cab.

As I was driving home, I felt so shaken up... Colin was sleeping
peacefully in his carseat behind me, and I sneaked glances at his
serene face as tears blurred my vision. I kept thinking, "Oh, God, oh,
God, that could have been me 20 years from now" - had I not made the
decision to have a child on my own or had I put my hope in a guy yet
again. In a parallel universe, that IS me!

Meeting this woman and hearing her story put my difficulties of coping on
my own into perspective: nothing would be as bad to me as not having
my child, NOTHING!

Has any of you experienced a similar epiphany?

Working odd hours

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 23:16:00 +0000

A not-uncommon query was posted on the Choice Mom discussion board by someone who worked long, odd hours and was concerned how other single women with non-9-to-5 work managed. She also wondered how we work 40 hours and then come home and do everything alone. It elicited some helpful responses that I thought should be shared with the wider blog audience:

Helena: I also had a job that required a lot of hours and potentially some really weird, last minute, come-in-and-deal-with-this-at-3 a.m. ones. I made sure I had back up--people I knew and could call on in an emergency, and also found that I could often bring my son (now 3) in on those rare middle-of-the-night occasions. I found that kids can be pretty adaptable when they are started off with a certain routine early on. I have family about 50 miles away but also made sure I had a lot of friends who could help out if I needed to be at work on an off-time and COULDN'T have him with me. That is key. If I hadn't had that, I don't think I would have been able to stay at my (then) job.

I think you also need to tell yourself that you cannot be Super Mom without driving yourself crazy. Quality time is important over quantity time. My friends with kids who have partners (and one is a SAHM with a live-in nanny!) plan extravagant parties for their kids because they have the time to hand-make invitations and party-favors. That's great! But I have to know that I won't be able to do that much without going crazy.

Darla: I just want to reiterate that your priorities really do change once you have a child. The job that seemed so important to you before may become more just a way to make money than a way to find personal fulfillment. Not that you don't need a job that you enjoy, but just that it will likely not be nearly as important as the time you spend away from that job. And you will find waysto either work your home schedule around your job schedule or work your job schedule around your home schedule. We all do that to a certain extent, even those of us who work "normal hours".

The last thing I want to mention is that I can't stress enough how important a support system is, especially if you have medical issues that may limit your endurance at times. In my opinion, no one should parent totally alone. The old saying that 'It takes a village to raise a child' is a wise one and even two-parent households need that village from time to time. Life is messy. People get sick, cars break down, things come up at the last minute, and having a network of people to call on in those circumstances can be crucial.

When I started off on this journey of SMC, I had the same idea that you stated above. I wanted to have people around in case of extreme emergencies, but I wanted to be able to handle everything else by myself. What I found was that even when I can do that, I shouldn't. It's not the best option for me or my children. When I am overly tired or totally in need of adult conversation or whatever else, I am not the best mom to my children. I need to meet my own needs in order to meet theirs to the best of my abilities and so the responsible thing to do in those circumstances is ask for help, as hard as that can be at times.

I’ve also met other moms who are definitely not soul-mates but who live nearby so are really convenient in terms of trading babysitting. Sometimes it's not about the emotional connection, but just about the convenience factor.

Heather: There are 24 -hour daycare facilities these days to accommodate those working the non-traditional 8-5 shift. I think if you posted an add for a home day care provider with your specific hours, you may find something.

Moran: I got a nanny for $275 per week that lived in. It made my crazy career possible while I had a newborn. I was lucky to be able to bring my nanny and child to work during the first 9 months so I could continue to breastfeed and be near her. After that (and until now - she just turned 3) I have stayed home. I am able to share the real formative time with her and have stretched my funds and got my own insurance. Sacrifices have been made, but it is worth it. I knew it would be hard, but totally underestimated it. You need lots of support - hire some of it and if you are lucky, find friends and family that you can swap favors with.

How do you deal with the tiredness of working 40-50 hours per
week and then coming home to doing everything by oneself? I don't want to HAVE to go home to my parents on my days off just to get the extra help. I want to go just to visit but still show everyone I can do it on my own.

I totally see where you are. I was there too, but after three years of this I can tell you it is nearly impossible for you to do it entirely "on your own." Ask for help when you need it. Hire help when you need it. Give yourself a break when you can. Cut your hours back if you can. I was totally a career woman and never thought it would change, but there is not 200% of you to go around. You will definitely want to spend time with your little one. My personal advice - spend as many weeks/months at the beginning with your newborn baby then pick it up again when they are a year or so. I didn't have much of a maternity leave, but found that I was glad to have more time with her from year 1-3 when she is really forming her personality and learning what life is all about. I feel it creates the base she will need to thrive and now she can start pre-school and I can go back to work!!

At the crossroads: single, childless, happy, longing

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 15:24:00 +0000

submitted by Jenny

I’m 32 and thinking about becoming a single mother by choice.

I've lived abroad, traveled the world, gained an education, partied hard, explored my sexuality, and established a career. I pursue creative hobbies, stand up for what I believe in, volunteer for causes I'm passionate about, and look for the beauty in everything. I live alone and genuinely enjoy my own company. I take charge of my life and steer the parts that I can control - inwardly and outwardly - in the direction I want to go. I'm not complacent, but I haven't met a man who shares my goal of parenthood, and I've been single for too long.

I'm not holding out for the mythological Mr. Right. Rather, I want to meet a man who is kind-hearted, shares my values, and respects my interests. And I don't desire fireworks. Nor do I buy into the myth of ready-made soul mates. I believe that we choose to love, and we choose to commit to someone, and I will work as hard as I can to maintain my side of the love-commitment pact. I believe in compromise, and I believe in hard work. In my eyes, ups and downs *are* contentment. The thing is, I want to share them with a (truly) significant other. Now. Yet he hasn't come along, and while I can live without ever meeting a partner, I cannot live without ever mothering a child.

The media tells me that I'm to be a happy and carefree single, that I'm to revel in my ability to spend as much money as I please on as many material items as I please, and that I'm to accept that a hobby, a pet, a designer handbag and a desk by the window will fulfill my very human yearnings for deep intimacy and a biological child. I'm supposed to push my desire for commitment aside, and to drown my biological clock in cocktails. I'm to celebrate capitalism (oops, I mean singleness) by buying experiences that induce temporary highs and “pampering” myself in ways that conform to Western beauty ideals - while having meaningless sex with a different man every night (who won’t even pay me for the displeasure). And I'm to feel proud of these “achievements.”

Only all I want is to be a mother, which now requires new ways of being and believing. Because the bustling family life and equally shared parenting I’ve always aspired to, sensing it would make me profoundly happy, now feels akin to chasing rainbows -- on deadline. I never imagined my wishes would slip so easily through my fingers. After all, they were within my reach, under my control, and embarrassingly average. Or were they?

As I stand at crossroads -- facing my fears, acknowledging my loss, and reshaping my hopes -- avoidance, confusion and anger have given way to anxiety and frustration. Sure, I’m ready and willing to make a lifelong commitment, shoulder responsibility, surrender my personal freedoms, and relinquish my lifestyle “privileges.” I feel like I’ve been ready for years. And yes, I’m confident that I can provide time, attention, love, discipline, and material essentials. But do I have the right to have a child because...well, just because I want one?

Does “choice” motherhood disadvantage a child from his or her first breath? To what degree does the stigma attached to “choice” mothers “taint” a child, too? What psychosocial obstacles stand in the way of a “choice” child, teenager, and adult’s happiness? Am I strong enough not to feel belittled by the elevated social status conferred on partnered mothers? Is putting care and thought into bringing a “choice” child into this world any guarantee that I will make the right decision? Without knowing the personality of my future child, or how he or she will react to mine, can that decision ever be “right”? Will (single) mother-love be enough “protection” against an oftentimes hard, lonely and thankless job? Can I truly resign myself to the possibility of never experiencing passionate, companionate love with a man again? And if “giving love”, “receiving love”, and “having a family” are good enough reasons for couples (who may or may not remain together) to become parents…why aren’t they good enough for me, too?

Sometimes it’s all too much, and I find myself going round in circles, endlessly reinterpreting the ethical, psychological, and personal considerations -- what *if*, what if, *what* if?

But the more I weigh the struggles and strengths of “choice” motherhood, the more my feelings of helplessness give way to meaning. Because I may not have a new dream in place yet, but I do have a new vision of who I am and what I can become -- if I choose to reach out to the future fearlessly.

To be or not to be a mom....

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 11:14:00 +0000

from Kim, age 40

Like all of you, I have a deep desire to have a child of my own. When I was 36 I went out with a guy for two years who said he DID want a child. When we broke up he said "I always said I didn't want a child!" I know that this is a common story. Anyway, shortly after we broke up I began this journey of `thinking' and through the information on the Choice Moms discussion board realized I can have my dream without a partner.

I have been to a fertility specialist, and had every test under the sun. My fertility health is good. And an ex-boyfriend (whom I have known for 15y) agreed to be my known donor. He is the perfect KD because he lives in another continent (Australia) and has even offered to help with some financial support. Last weekend he visited and we went to a sperm bank together. We are all set to go; his "life-force" is there for me now...waiting for me....I feel so grateful and lucky!!!

And now here is my question. I have done an enormous amount of soul searching....and it's clear to me there is a piece of me that is still "not sure." There are the doubts of course about whether I can practically raise a child by myself -- emotionally, financially -- and the worries about future dating, etc. That's all there. But my real question is about....am I choosing from my heart?

To be frank, I realize that my belief system up until now has been that my life will be complete if I have a baby. In reality I know that it will be very `different' and not necessarily `better'. Because all my energy has been focused on this, I have it in my mind that being a mother is superior to not being a mother. I am very self sufficient, and very successful at `getting it done', and I've pursued this like: here's the problem, and here's how I fix it.

Now that I know being a mother is a very REAL possibility for me, the `urgency' has gone. I can truly and honestly sit with `having a baby' and `not having a baby'. And I'm just `feeling' into that. Feeling into my body and my heart and waiting for something else to arise in me. I am so grateful for this space now because I know I am choosing from a place of deep calm rather than to fill a gap. I still have an overwhelming, overflowing love toward children when I am around them by the way. That has been a constant for me.

I would really love to hear from others that are at this point -- at the edge of not having or having, being a mom or not being a mom. Does this question come up for you too?

I look forward to your responses.

My "bucket list" ...and Sex in the City

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 12:44:00 +0000

from Rudy:

I’m technically still a Thinker, since I haven’t started the actual process of trying to conceive (TTC) yet, but I am now 100 percent committed to doing it. I just have to wait another year due to financial and work-related constraints.

Having all this time to ponder my decision has been both a blessing and a curse.

On the one hand, it’s terribly difficult to have so many months to wait. I’ve started a weekly countdown and am now at week 57, which seems like an unbearable amount of time, especially when thoughts of being a mother cross my mind at least 10 times a day. However, the long waiting period has also given me time to fully prepare myself emotionally, physically and psychologically (as well as financially).

To that end, I have created my own private “Bucket List” (swiped the idea from the movie obviously) of things I want to accomplish before getting pregnant/having a child. Some of the items are practical, such as learning to sew (a way to save money after the child comes) and teaching myself a working knowledge of things like plumbing, electricity and auto mechanics (to help me become even more independent). Other items are more for my emotional well-being, such as running a half marathon (to give me a real feeling of accomplishment, and faith in my abilities) and visiting NYC (something I’ve never done but have always wanted to do). Other items are simply frivolous and are too embarrassing to mention, but will act to further contribute to my feelings of self-confidence as I embark on my journey.

I had an interesting experience last week when I met with my financial advisor. I had previously told him of my plans (didn’t really want to share that info with a near-stranger, but since it is very relevant to my financial plan, I did have to tell him). I obviously didn’t go into details, and I realized how little he comprehends the situation when he was talking about my future plans and said “When you…uh…get…a baby in a few years”

When I GET a baby? What does he think I’m doing, ordering one from a catalogue? In any case, I have to give him credit for not dismissing my plan. I just found it humorous the way he struggled to find the right words for this unorthodox situation!

One less positive experience this week was watching the "Sex and the City" movie last night. I suppose it was silly of me to allow myself to get emotional over a movie, but after watching the series for six years, I was quite attached to the characters, and the movie was quite heart-wrenching at times. And the happy endings that were portrayed reminded me (albeit in typical over-the-top Hollywood fashion) how wonderful love and marriage can be when you find the right partner.

It felt particularly poignant for me since I am in the midst of grieving the fact that this kind of “happy ending” may never happen for me. I think my initial reaction to such things is to subconsciously or consciously try to “harden” my heart in an attempt to distance myself from the need for sex and romantic love, but then I realized what an awful thing that is to do to oneself. But I feel trapped in a sense. Opening myself to these kinds of feelings is even more painful because I have no immediate means by which to fulfill them. I don’t want to suppress my emotions (and realize it’s not healthy to do so), but I sometimes find no other way to block out the pain.

However, I must note that up until I saw the movie, I was feeling very happy with my life and quite positive overall about my plans. Perhaps I was just having an overly emotional day when I saw the movie. But I also wonder if it stirred up emotions that I had been trying to keep under wraps and they all came bubbling out.

I suppose time will tell, and this has in no way changed my mind about my future. It’s just made me realize that it might not be as easy emotionally as I had been fooling myself to believe.

To all those Moms out there, are there things you wish you'd done before having your child/children that would have been helpful to you?

Regrets...

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 01:38:00 +0000

At my favorite Unitarian Universalist tradition today -- the Coming of Age ceremony for our 9th graders -- McKenzie, a young woman who has stood out for me at the church for several years, when I met her in a class I helped teach about "Neighboring Faiths," offered her thoughts on who she is and is not.

Always much more confident and comfortable being who she is than I remember myself at 15, she had some wonderful things to say to the adult congregants gathered about her own spiritual guidelines...about the difference between dreaming (moving toward your goals) and obsessing (focusing on something that just gets you stuck).

She also had this excellent insight, which I asked her for permission to reprint here:
"Regret is being unable to learn from our mistakes."
And, a line that I'm happy to say that my 9-year-old daughter just recited to me from memory:
"Don't regret mistakes. Acknowledge them and learn from them."

-- Mikki

How do I juggle work travel?

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 03 May 2008 08:17:00 +0000

This common query from Emily, who welcomes our comments and responses here.

I travel for work at least once a month. Sometimes I'm away from the Bay Area for a week at a time, and the voyage isn't an easy one - often grappling with O'Hare, weather delays, difficult connections, and then sitting in the middle seat when I get stuffed onto a flight I was wait-listed for, catching every flu and cold in the nation between November and June.

I'm getting ahead of myself. With each of these scenes now, I'm imagining the kid. Would I take you with me? Where and with whom would I leave you if I didn't? I can't even conceive of leaving you in someone else's care overnight. And if I did that, how would I pay for it? The issues explode in every direction.

This reminds me of my mom's story, c. 1978, we were leaving my father - or rather, I suppose he had left us. She took me out to lunch - I was 3 or so - to tell me he wasn't going to be living with us anymore and we were going to be moving. As she tells it, my eyes filled with tears and I replied, "but I can't carry all my stuff!" She assured me we would be getting movers, and apparently that solved my immediate concerns.

At the same time that I wrestle with the mammoth decisions - to do this now or wait?, and how to inseminate - I feel this old tug of the details. How will I carry everything? Groceries and a stroller, luggage and baby dashing through O'Hare, a car rental at the airport and a child seat that isn't mine... or would I bring one? Or again, would I leave the baby at home? How does this work?

Here's the big one: what will having a baby on my own do to my work? Will I be able to perform as well if I can't just jump on a plane with a week's notice? Can I refuse to travel for 6 months... or a year? If I leave the baby with someone, will it be okay and how could I possibly do that? Will I have to work harder to compensate for not traveling as much? Will they punish me for choosing to do this on my own? How much will be too much to ask?

I often console myself with the thought that having a baby now is what I need to do and the rest will work itself out. I'm actually clear on this in my heart, when I'm not overwhelmed by the details and unknowns. I worry about the finances, but not as much as I worry about these logistics of balancing a baby and work... and the torn feelings I know I'll have when I have to be away more than I'd like.

One of my dearest wishes is to find a community of women I can trust... I dream about a warm web of support. It's my biggest comfort to imagine that there might be a number of us both in the area where I live and online, who can offer a hand, a reference, advice, and a safety net to help each other out in ways even our mothers might not have experienced a generation ago.

When my mom tells me about the early days with my father, it doesn't sound like she had much help. She was lucky when I was older to be remarried to a man who was home with me when she traveled for a week at a time. Apparently things have a way of working out...

Mikki's note: Welcome Emily, to the website and the discussion group, where you will indeed find the warm web of support you are looking for. You will undoubtedly start to get some of the feedback you are looking for as you plan your journey.

Have I Waited Long Enough?

noreply@blogger.com (Choice Mom) — Sat, 08 Mar 2008 05:22:00 +0000

A woman on the Choice Mom discussion board introduced herself recently. She was 35, had been dating, but didn't find a partner interested in marriage and children, so she decided to move ahead to try to conceive on her own before it was too late or too expensive. She chose a doctor, an open-identity donor, and was weeks away from her first insemination. She read the right books, accepted the drawbacks to her method to motherhood, and found the support of her parents.

"But at the same time, I'm wondering if I should wait to do this,
because I'm not sure I am ready to 'give up the dream' of finding a
partner to raise a child with. Am I deluding myself that I still have
time to meet that person?"

Here is how some of the women responded to her very common concern:

NO NAME, 38 weeks pregnant

It's kind of interesting I should see this post tonight, because about
two hours ago I had a real meltdown. I'm five days away from my
c-section, and tonight I'm having a crisis of faith. I'm doing this on
my own, as I've done so many other things in my life, and I'm worried
that I'm about to condemn my son to feeling like that same outsider
I've always felt like. I've always felt that normal lives are what
other people have. I worry about my son feeling that way when he
sees other kids with fathers and siblings. People keep telling me how
wonderful it is I'm doing this and how I'll be great, and how brave, yada,
yada, yada. "If anyone can do it alone, you can."

I don't actually debate that, but it would have been nice for once in my life to not be doing something on my own because there was someone out there who really wanted to do it with me. Now I realize a lot of this is the hormones and sciatica talking (starting two days ago, I can hardly walk), but it's still hard.

So I don't know what to tell you about which inner voice to listen to.
The one that says "hang on a little longer to get what I really want"
or "now is the time to do it." Not listening to which inner voice will
make you crazier? Not waiting for ideal, or waiting for ideal and
potentially winding up with nothing? I realize that it was exactly one
year ago today that I got on this roller coaster (first attempt), and I
had a compulsion and a sense of panic that I had to try. I completely
hear you on that inner voice screaming at you "time's up! make a
call!" I think I've been the least at ease with the decision during
the pregnancy, because before the pregnancy I knew I had to try or I'd
never forgive myself, and after the baby's here, it will change
everything. However, sitting here alone and just waiting without the
panic of knowing I needed to try and without an actual outcome yet has
been the worst of it. I suspect it's the predominant rational brain,
combined with hormones and feeling like crap.

Someone said to me a few months ago -- "oh, it's good you did
the thing that was the most important." I said "no, I did the thing
that couldn't wait and had a time limit." I can't actually rank the two
things in terms of importance -- they're very different things and
fulfill very different needs. I've been very aware that I cannot expect
a child to fill one kind of loneliness. And I do not regret not going
with an uninspiring relationship in order to have a child with a
husband.

REBECCA, 31 weeks pregnant

It's hard to know when you've hit the now-or-never point until you hit it. Then it's really clear - at least it was for me. For me, it was when a friend of mine got breast cancer at age 36. She had a lumpectomy and chemo and her prognosis is excellent, but before she had chemo she was trying to decide whether to freeze her eggs in case they got fried beyond use from the chemo. (She did end up freezing them.) In helping her decide, I did some research and came across fertility rates for women over 35. I had always heard that fertility drops exponentially after age 35, but seeing actually seeing the numbers themselves was shocking.

Also, I hadn't had a date with anyone even close to marriageable in literally years, which made me more ready to let go of the "dream" part of it.

Thank goodness I didn't wait any longer, because my fertility wasn't as peachy as I assumed it would be. They found a fibroid, luteal phase defect, and high FSH for my age. I got pregnant after sixth and last IUI before moving on to IVF. Had I waited until I was 40, I would almost certainly have had to do IVF, or maybe not been able to use my eggs at all. That was too close for comfort for me, and it all came as a total shock.

If you know you want a biological child, I'd recommend doing it sooner rather than later. There is a ton of variability in ovarian aging, which makes it hard to predict when you will run out of time. And as you get older, issues that are minor for younger women (like a small fibroid) interact with your age and draw your per-cycle chance of pregnancy down even further.

Having said that, "sooner" doesn't mean "freak out this instant," but you might want to take some steps and think about trying to conceive in the next two years instead of thinking you have till you're 40. Getting a fertility work-up wouldn't be a bad idea. It'll give you a sense of what you're really dealing with. Start figuring out how you're going to pay for your fertility bills. It cost me about $9,400 to get pregnant.

But I completely agree that you must be comfortable with your decision, because you are liable to have frightening doubts no matter how well things go. I'm 31 weeks pregnant and I have fears that I'm making a huge mistake, even though everyone around me has been hugely supportive and most of the rational evidence points to the decision being a good one. It is a huge leap of faith. I imagine that other - i.e., "normal" - parents-to-be have fears as well.

JULIE, trying to conceive

This conversation is at the very core of why we (independent, loving, and intelligent) women come to the crossroads and make a decision instead of letting life just roll right over us. I know far too many people who never take leaps of faith and wind up pissed off and blaming the world for their lack. We all control our destiny to some degree. I would much rather be in the camp where I took a huge leap of faith and made a few mistakes along the way than to be in the camp where everyone is complacent and frozen with fear. Life is pretty damn scary when you think about your mortality, and how anything can happen at any given moment to take life away from you. I am a nurse. I see this on a daily basis and consider it a gift to have that perspective.

There are many days spent in neutral and that's just fine for some, but as for me, I'm choosing to drive and some days the pedal is to the floor. I refuse to get to the end of my life and have regret.

That said, this is no small feat; choosing to raise a child on your own. The fact that we all are going into it with such reverence and awe cannot be ignored. We are women who believe we have something very special within us that can only be nurtured by raising a child. Our need to be in a relationship with a child is far different from our need to be in a relationship with a man or woman.

I have had to mourn the dream as well. The first thing I did before I ever made an appointment with the fertility clinic was to find a good psychotherapist to make sure I wasn't letting go of something that was still important to me. Let me tell you, it has been no walk in the park. The grief took me by surprise, but I worked through it and continue to do so. I recommend it to anyone struggling with this decision. If you have the resources, go to someone who functions as a counselor or therapist. It's just as important as the Clomid.

A loving relationship with the right man would be such a gift, but for some reason God has chosen a different path for me. Maybe that means that the right man is just waiting for me to get the baby-making thing taken care of and he will show up later. There will still be men out there to date in my 40s, 50s, and on. My eggs, however, will not wait that long.

I fully agree that if you are not ready to jump right in and start the IUIs, don't push yourself. You need to feel ready, not forced. Be honest with yourself. It is not an easy ride, but hopefully you will find out what many of us have discovered. You will be amazed by the support you will receive. The key is opening your heart and letting it in. Let people help and support you. They gain something from it, too.

MIMI, 18 weeks pregnant

Your story is remarkably similar to mine. I had a few short-term relationships and at 35 decided to hang in with a guy I thought would get there. Low and behold, when I was 37, I realized he was never going to be able to come to grips with having kids, so I ended the relationship and began on the Choice Mom path.

After two miscarriages, doc did more tests and found a polyp, which was interfering with implantation. Had the polyp removed and voila!

If I had to do it over again, I would have started when I was 35. It really wasn't worth waiting to find Mr. Right. In fact, one of the few regrets I have as I look back on my life is that I wasted almost two years with a guy I probably knew deep down all along wasn't going to get there. As I'd like to have 2 kids, and will be almost 39 when I deliver, I'm worried I won't be able to.

KIM, about to start trying

I have been reading the "Now or Never" posts with interest. If all my tests are okay I may be trying my first attempt next month. While I am feeling quite confident about my decision, I also have moments of questioning, doubts and fears.

I have been thinking back on when I started running about 8 years ago. I started out just running a couple of miles and was happy when I achieved 2 loops around the lake, putting me at 4 miles. I did a few 5K's and people asked if I might move on to 10K's and I would say 'no, not really interested in training for that distance.' But ultimately I did a couple of 10K's. Then the question was, how about a half marathon? 'No, too much work, too far.' But I did end up thinking well, why not, let's give it a try. After a few halfs, inevitably the question of a full marathon would come up. For a couple of years my response was, '26 miles, are you nuts!' You guessed it. I suddenly had the urge to try and over several months worked up to the point that I could finish a marathon. Now I've finished 4.

One thing they tell you when you start training for a marathon is, you must respect the distance. It is a long way, and no, you are not going to be able to step out the door today and do 26 miles. It's about training and learning and ultimately taking one step at a time.

Anyway my point is that there are things in life that seem too hard, scary, or unknown and yes, there is a lot to learn and a lot of what ifs. But I think you need to trust your instincts, sign up for the race and trust that you will take it a step at a time and deal with whatever comes your way. We have no way of knowing what our current choices will bring us in the future, but we do know that life is way too short.