I discovered Single Mothers by Choice.  We went to a meeting and filled in the blanks to many lingering questions.  We met thinkers, tryers and mothers.  What I noticed was these women came from many walks of life.  The common factor was no husband and the desire to have children before the option was taken off the table.

I continued my research and realized I desired the same thing.  I wanted to be a mother. The next question is how to go about it?

What I learned quickly is that money was the biggest factor for me.  I felt insecure that I went to college have a professional job, and cannot afford motherhood.  In my delusion I made the assumption that these women were more financial responsible then I was.  I continued my research that now was more of an obsession.  I started watching documentaries on the topic of being a Single Mother by Choice.  I concluded that all these women were not wealthy or even upper middle class. Some went into great debt to be mothers.  They took out equity loans, second mortgages, drained 401Ks, and charged up credit cards to be a mother.  The sad part is that not all of the debt ended up with babies.

I have a house, a 401K, and credit cards.  I should be able to do the same to be a mother. At another time. I could possibly pull out that money.  The state of the economy right now prevents me from using those options.  My mortgage on my home is upside down.  My 401K isn’t worth anything at the moment.  I have not had a raise in several years.  Things are getting more expensive and paychecks are not increasing.  I could borrow the money at an obscene interest rate. The question is how will I pay it back and support a child by myself?

There are many irresponsible ways I could have a baby.  I try not to let my thoughts go that way. The older I get the more my thoughts get desperate.  My fertile years are passing me by.  I am still trying to make a choice about what my next step will be. Whatever the choice it will not be easy, and I have to admit I am resentful.

http://honesty556.wordpress.com
Monie

For more on this and other SMC subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online Forum and at local chapter meetings.

I’ve thought about this a lot, both before beginning the Trying to Conceive stage and many times over the course of being a mother. And to me the answer just brings up many more questions.

Is it fair to bring a child into a love-less marriage? Is it fair to bring a child into a relationship hoping that child will heal an ailing love? Is it fair to bring a child into a world full of violence and terror? Is it fair to bring a child into family that struggles with alcoholism or drug addiction? Is it fair to bring a child into the “perfect” partnership and then have that child feel like a third wheel? I could go on and on. And chances are, honestly, if I were to take a close look at the all the pros and cons, the answer to most of these questions would be, “No, it isn’t fair.”

But you know what? Life isn’t fair. Is it fair to bring a child into a family that’s so full of love and want that the simple idea of that child lights up a woman’s heart? Is it fair to bring a child into the world, a child who will have a mother that thinks the world is a brighter place because that child exists? Is it fair to bring a child into the world with a mom who is open and honest, who can honestly say I wanted you so much that I took the risk of you being angry at me when you’re 10 or 15 or 21 about not having a father because I knew that this was the right choice, because I knew I could make us a family, because I just knew? To those questions, I would answer, “Yes, it is fair.”

I chose to have my child and I chose a donor who was anonymous (which most of the donors were at that time). He’s known his story from the very beginning and sometimes he’s mad, sometimes he feels left out—he’s the ONLY one who doesn’t have a dad—sometimes he feels like an oddball. But most of the time, we’re a pretty good family unit that likes to do things together. And he knows that because it’s just the two of us, we can go dinosaur digging, that his interests will often become my interests (okay, not Pokemon), that I will indulge his curiosity.

Is it fair to create a family out of love?  I’d say, “Sure, why not.”

by Nancy Nisselbaum

To discuss this and other related subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online 24/7 Forum and at local chapter meetings.

What I’ve found instead is an amazingly diverse community of women.  Our political affiliations are all across the spectrum.  We are gay and straight, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, and atheist.  We are urban and rural, in the U.S. and Canada and Europe and Southeast Asia, and everywhere in-between.  We are black, white, Asian, Hispanic, and of every possible ethnic mix.  We are creative types and scientists who work from home and travel the world and are unemployed.  We are biological and adoptive moms and waiting-to-be-moms and still-thinking-about-becoming-moms.  About the only way we’re not diverse is that we are all women.

And it’s incredible, this crazy-quilt community that supports and shares and applauds and {{hugs}} and grieves with each other.  Our diversity leads to a depth and breadth of knowledge about motherhood and plain old life that I like to think of as wiki-SMC.  Ask almost any question and someone will have an answer or an anecdote or she’ll employ her mad Google skills to help.  We remember one another’s stories and learn to recognize each other’s voices online.  I know women I have never met better than some of the people I see every day.

I am grateful for all the women who have gone before me into SMC-hood and especially for those on the journey to get there with me.  This sisterhood is truly powerful.

Robyn

To discuss this and other related subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online 24/7 Forum and at local chapter meetings.

I joined Single Mothers by Choice when considering embarking on single parenthood so it’s been many years, and let me tell you, there is nothing better than a supportive and understanding peer group to help you navigate your ups, downs, and angst. Leandro considers some of the other SMC kids among his best friends and we share times with them outside regular meetings, so it is really important to us.

So thus Inside-Out Guacamole – a speedier way to the same great flavor.
And this guac without the mashing is not just for single chicks…It’s got NFL cred…try it on Sunday when Big Blue shows that team from San Francisco where they can put that candlestick….

Inside-Out Guacamole (can be doubled or tripled)
2 ripe Haas avocados (unpeeled flesh should give a bit when pressed with a finger), peeled and chunked
Juice of half a lime
½ Cup grape tomatoes, sliced in half
¼ red onion, sliced very thin
1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
¼-1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/8-1/4 tsp salt (to taste)
Place avocado chunks in a bowl and sprinkle with lime (for flavor and to prevent browning)
Add the rest of the ingredients, mix gently and serve with large tortilla chips or tortilla scoops.

Natalia de Cuba Romero
http://hotcheapeasy.com

To discuss this and other related subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online 24/7 Forum and at local chapter meetings.

Back in 2008 I was a divorced 44 year-old woman, busy, happy, fulfilled.  Had my own business, loved the freedom; I used to say it was no coincidence that I didn’t have a boss or a husband, or that I drove a stick shift car — I liked to be in control!  I was in an on-again-off-again relationship with a great guy who (ironically) I thought was too busy with his sons from a previous marriage to devote enough time to ME (!), and we were in an “off” period.  I got on Match.com, and met and briefly dated another guy; it was honestly just a 6 week fling, he was not someone I was interested in long-term, he was really just to get my mind off the OTHER guy!  As I said, I was 44, I knew the facts of life. But given my age, and the fact that many friends younger than me were struggling with infertility, I did occasionally get lax on the matter of birth control….

Well, you know where this is going by now.  I found myself knocked up at 44!!  I could NOT believe it.  It took me MONTHS to figure out why my boobs were killing me and I felt so blah.  I never had morning sickness.  I just woke up one morning and wondered if I was getting my period….hey wait, when was the last time I had my period…..umm…..HOLY CRAP!  I ran to the CVS, bought a pregnancy test, and there it was.

Did I want to have a child?  It was a question that I hadn’t asked myself in many years.  When I was younger I had always assumed I would be a mom, but when I was married, it never seemed like a good idea (it would have been an AWFUL idea), and when I got divorced at 36, I just seemed to give that idea away as “not meant to be” along with everything else.  I had so much: great family and friends, work I loved, freedom to do as I pleased…. I just didn’t think that I was lucky enough to add “happy marriage and kids” to that list, and was ok with that.  Not everyone gets to have everything they want.  At best I thought I might find a partner with kids of his own and be a great stepmom. Single motherhood was NEVER something I considered, really not even for a moment.  It seemed impossibly hard.

The first thing I did after reading the stick was walk to my computer and look up the closest Planned Parenthood.  I can still see the Google Maps page showing me how close it was to my house.  Ultimately I never went there, or even called them, but knowing that I had that option kept me calm.

And that is why, though my journey here is different from some others, I do think of myself as a single mother by CHOICE. I and I alone had a choice to make, and I chose to be a single mom.  When I was pregnant a friend told me about SMC (she knew a member), and I looked at the website.  Initially I felt that perhaps it wasn’t for me, that I would not be welcome.  The stories I read and continue to read today are so beautiful; women who have had a lifelong yearning for motherhood and who overcome huge obstacles to find their children – but that was not me.  For much of my pregnancy I was still somewhat ambivalent about what was about to happen.  But once that kid arrived…well, you all know.  One stressed out, exhausted night I dipped back into the SMC blog and newsletters and knew that these women were my sisters.

So here’s the rest of the story, after I took that home pregnancy test.  I took deep breaths. I talked … to friends with kids, friends without kids, friends who had chosen not to keep babies and friend who struggled to have babies. I kept telling myself, well, just take the next step (go to the doctor), and the next step (get the initial tests), and the next step (get the sonogram).  Everything kept pointing in the right direction.  I told my sister (who was thrilled and realistic and supportive) and told my parents (who were freaked out and appalled – although that has changed and they love my son like he is the second coming. Seriously.)  I told the father (who wanted nothing to do with it and remains completely out of our lives, hopefully forever).  I found out I didn’t have maternity coverage on my health insurance (I had declined it when I started my company and got individual insurance) and figured out how to get it.  I kept an eye out for reasons not to have this baby, and didn’t find any.

I remember saying to God (who I don’t really know if I believe in, but (S)He is still good to talk to), “OK, looks like I might do this thing, but you BETTER give me an easy baby!  OK?  Deal?” (S)He held up his (her?) end of the bargain. After an easy pregnancy and an easy birth, my sweet, healthy, chill baby boy was here.  (Of course, God is now laughing, because now that I love the kid more than my own life, we have hit the terrible twos WITH A VENGEANCE!)

Many people say they can’t imagine their life without kids.  Well, I don’t have to imagine it,  I had a big full life without kids for 45 years, and it was a good life and I sometimes miss it.  But I chose to change it, chose to try something new, and am very, very happy with that choice.

To discuss this and other related subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online 24/7 Forum and at local chapter meetings.

However, I feel guilty about my shortcomings all of the time.  I sometimes feel that I’m a lousy mother.  But I feel that way because that’s my personality — I fully intended to be a perfect mother, and am shocked to have discovered I’m not, not nearly.  I have a very opinionated neighbor friend mom, who on a recent playdate brought her kid’s own snack — apples and almonds — and I thought it was perhaps because last time I let them have cookies.  And it would have been easy to feel guilty or judged.  But instead I laughed and said “Is that because I gave them cookies last time?”  And she laughed and said no, it’s because her daughter always eats hosts out of house and home and unashamedly begs for food, so she brings her own, extra, to try to head off the embarrassment of having a starving child.

There are a few things everyone is sensitive about.  I’ve had the comments in the grocery store about how my baby is going to fall out of the cart on her head if I’m not more careful.  I’ve had compliments in the same grocery store about how I dealt with my child’s request for candy (I said no, and laughed when she asked a second time).   I am sensitive about breastfeeding in public these days, since my child is 18 months old and can clearly request which breast she wants and also does the uncovering/covering by herself.  Which, to me, just means it is time to wean the baby.

I know moms feel judged if they don’t breastfeed, and I wish they didn’t.  And those whose kids have special needs or behavioral issues (or just bad days) feel judged for their ill-behaved children.  But really, I wish everyone could grow thicker skin and parent with more confidence.  Ask for advice, sure.  Accept it or not.  But then move ahead, knowing we’re the best moms we can be.

Andrea

To discuss this and other related subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online 24/7 Forum and at local chapter meetings.

Every Single Mother by Choice has anticipated this moment — the point at which someone else accosts our children with the fact of their fatherlessness. Claire is a weird kid — she really has never seemed terribly interested. We’ve discussed the fact that our family is a mom-and-kids family. I even made her a book with The Story of Claire, complete with my hand-drawn attempt at the meeting in a petri dish of sperm and egg. References to the doctor and the donor. I’ve always talked about it terms of what our family has, rather than what it doesn’t: We have a mom. We have a big sister and a little sister. We have a grandma, a grandpa, an uncle, an aunt, two cousins and a great-grandmother. There was a point when she was about two years old that she became aware of daddies. We’d go somewhere public and she’d categorize all the people she saw: He’s a boy. That’s a girl. That’s a mommy. That’s a daddy. But it wasn’t a big deal. I’d sometimes try a little education: some families have two moms. Some have two dads. Some have one mom, like us. But her interest was fleeting, and I’ve never pushed it.

So the playdate conversation was our first moment of truth. What would she say? How would she handle it?

Claire’s little friend has been interested in our lack of father from the beginning. Her mom asked me early on what she should tell her daughter, because she was asking. I told her to tell her there are all kinds of families. Our is a mom-and-kids family. A doctor and a donor helped me have kids. I also told her to tell her daughter to go ahead and ask us. We’re not shy. We’re not embarrassed. It is not a sore point with us. So finally, more than a year later, the little girl had brought the issue to Claire’s attention. Politely, nicely, but pointedly.

The conversation continued.

“I’m lucky because I have a mommy and a daddy. I have both,” said the little girl, trying to emphasize, in a fairly nice way, that she thought her situation was preferable.

Claire’s truth-telling was exhausted, I think, by the “lucky” reference.

“I have both, too,” she said, mildly, as if it were true.

“No you don’t, silly goose,” objected the friend.

She turned to me, wanting an authority figure to help straighten out the truth.

“She said she has a mommy and a daddy,” she told me.

I didn’t bite. “I heard that.”

And I finished drying the dishes I’d been doing, and the girls continued their stamping project at the play table. They talked of other things.

Then, when I was two rooms away reading my book, I heard the conversation resume.

“I just have a daddy,” said the friend. “My mommy is dead.”

I thought this was hilarious. My friend had bemoaned her daughter’s father-crush, her preference for her working father to her stay-at-home mom. Daddy could do no wrong in the eyes of the little girl, a softer alternative to her stricter but lovely mom. She’d be thrilled to hear she’d been killed off.

Then my daughter responded.

“My mommy is dead too,” she said. Damn. Now I’d been killed off too. Claire was apparently oblivious to the perils of killing of a parent in a single-parent family.

The girls giggled as they discussed how they’d screamed so loud it killed mommy.

I read my book. I am not an alarmist parent. These seemed like healthy fantasies to me. When the girls eventually made their way into the living room where I was, Claire came over to tell me that she killed me by screaming so loud.

“I hope not,” I said giving her a kiss and a squeeze. “I’d really miss you.”

And the playdate continued. The conversation was less interesting after that, but I retained the glow of it, listening like a fly on the wall to the innocent puzzlement and rebellion of these preschoolers who are just starting to notice a few different and scary things in their worlds.

Claire didn’t follow up on the issue when her friend left, though of course I was dying to talk about it and reinforce all the positive messages I harbour about our family and her creation. I’m secure enough to wait until she asks.

Besides, we have plenty of other things to talk about. The next day, as we walked to church, Claire brought up the issue of family planning.

“I think we should have another baby,” she said.

“Really?” I said, intrigued. Anna just turned 1, and the hard work of infancy seemed very fresh.

“Babies are a lot of work,” I reminded Claire. “They cry a lot, and poop, and always want to breastfeed. You have to do a lot of waiting while mommy takes care of the baby. Are you sure you want another baby?”

“Yes,” she said. “Can we?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We’ll have to see.”  “Should I have a boy baby or a girl baby?” I asked, curious about what Claire was after in a new sibling.

“No, I’m going to have the baby!” she objected. Duh!

I laughed with relief, and delight.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I said. “I thought it was me who had to have another baby.”

And as we walked along, and discussed possible baby names and what she was going to feed her baby, I played back the beginning of the conversation with pleasure: “I think we should have another baby,” she’d said.

Not the royal “we” but the family “we.” The secure-in-her-world “we.”

Turns out I don’t need to reinforce any positive messages about our family after all. For my daughter, it’s just who we are. We are us, and what is mine is hers and what is hers is ours. We’re in this together.

I’m just not sure I’m ready to be a grandma.

Andrea Lynn

To discuss this and other related subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online 24/7 Forum and at local chapter meetings.

Reprinted with permission from www.MotheringintheMiddle.com

There’s no question that being an SMC is challenging, as well as incredibly wonderful. So I’ve compiled some good tips from our members to help answer those questions. For more good advice, join SMC and discuss your questions with our members, either online or in person, who are in the same place and/or have been there. (www.singlemothersbychoice.org/membership)

When my budget would make it, I hired a babysitter for 2 hours every Wednesday from 4-6 pm.  It really made a difference for me, emotionally.

For me, having a somewhat satisfying job is important to my being able to be the best mom I can be.

When I feel like it is all a getting to be a slog, I usually have some kind of “treat” for our family that resets the balance.  That might mean going to McDonalds for supper (one with a Playland) — just to avoid the meal clean-up.  Or letting the kids watch too much TV one day.  Or taking a day “off” and getting nothing accomplished.   I am normally a non-stop worker around the house, constantly putting things in order and doing the next task that needs doing, but sometimes I just don’t.

I reach out to friends — often in the SMC Forum — just to hear from some fellow voices who are on the same journey.

I take lots of photos and upload them and then sort through them and email them to friends.  Somehow it makes me nostalgic for my kids, even though they are just down the hall.  Photos stop time and stop action and stop the insanity, sometimes.

I  hire a babysitter three nights a month.  I have groceries (and whatever else I can) delivered.  We don’t eat out much, but I like to cook.

No easy answers, but I’ll share my mantra with you: do what you can do when you can do it.  Just know that it will get easier with more practice and more sleep.

Have an activity that I do just for myself one evening a month.  Aside from that, we visit lots of playgrounds, kids’ museums, kids’ activities, etc.

When I really need a break the best thing for me is just to get us out of the house.  We go to the park, on a walk, to places where we had low cost memberships, playland at the mall, all free places where we can go.  Sometimes too much time at home time is a recipe for disaster.

I invite a lot of people over for dinner.  Nothing major – spaghetti, maybe a casserole or something.  We gotta eat, so why not? It’s nice to have company over to distract the toddler and get in some adult socializing.

If you can afford it, hire a housecleaner.  We have few enough hours to spend with our children, let alone ourselves!! and cleaning toilets shouldn’t take away from that.

I use Sunday afternoon/evening to cook and prep food for a few days – make a pot of soup or some other one dish meal that I can have for a few days, and I’ll prep veggies to use in salads or for cooking. (or I’ll roast a big batch of veggies and then just need to re-heat).  I have multiple single serving containers so I can pack up individual portions all at once and just grab and go in the mornings.

I use online banking and have all of my recurring monthly bills set up on auto pay.

Take a deep breath. And remember that, whatever it is, this too shall pass.

Thank you to all of the SMC members who contributed to this post, and Happy New Year to everyone!

Jane Mattes for SMC

To discuss this and other related subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online 24/7 Forum and at local chapter meetings.

Thanks to your support and participation, this has been an amazing year for SMC.  

 I hope that the coming year brings you all of the good things

you’re wishing for – - and even more.  

Best Regards,

Jane Mattes,  SMC Founder & Director

If you’re a single woman who is thinking about single motherhood or trying to adopt or conceive, or already a mom. and you’d like to join SMC so you can join our discussions during the coming year, we’d love to have you!  To join SMC, go to our website and click on the Membership link on the top of the page.

Our blog will return next week.

When I became an adult, I lit candles in my own home, usually without the latkes and definitely without the gifts.  I fell in with a motley crew of other adults who were were a religiously-mixed bunch–different flavors of Jewish, varieties of Christian, some pagans, a Buddhist, and at least one atheist.

Most of the time, my Christian friends spent the Chrismas holidays out of town, with their parents, and the rest of us observed our holidays individually.  Collectively, however, we had our own tradition, which was to observe Twelfth Night. We would gather for a large group dinner, to which you could contribute a dish, wine, and/or money. When the group was small, everyone bought a small gift for everyone else, but over the years, the group grew and expanded to the point where we went to Secret Elf and later to a version of White Elephant which was huge fun. We always had a Lord of Misrule and many years there were Christmas crackers on the tables, and the dinner always ended with a flaming pudding.

These were generally child-free affairs even once we started to have children. Time took its toll, though. People moved away from NYC, family traditions took a larger role, and eventually the dinners were abandoned. By then, I had become an SMC, and we were celebrating Chanukah at home.

I make a bigger deal over Chanukah than my parents did–though in truth, there simply wasn’t as much on offer in the local Jewish community when I was a child.  When my daughter was little, we would go to Chanukah festivities at the local Y and/or at our synagogue. There were gifts, of course, and Chanukah gelt (money). I used to buy a new book every year, either a new Chanukah story or a Jewish folktale (“used to” here being a relative term, since my most recent purchase was just a couple of years ago), and every night of the holiday we would read a different story that seemed appropriate to the season (we read them at other times of year too).

We light candles (we both say the blessings) and I give my teenager presents. Some years I get presents from my friends, though I’ve stuck to the family tradition that children do not give gifts to their parents.  (Sometimes, when my daughter was younger, I would buy something for myself and wrap it, because it bothered her when I didn’t get any presents.) I freely admit that in some years, the gifts I buy for my daughter are for me, too (movies, Wii games, books we both want to read).

I make latkes from scratch, though not every night, and sometimes we play dreidel (badly, lol). Sometimes we go to theChanukah dinner at our synagogue, but not this year because it’s the same night as the big winter concert at my daughter’s school. We sing songs, sometimes, and still read some of the old stories, and it’s a nice family time.

Melissa Singer

For more on this and other subjects, join SMC and take part in our discussions on our lively online Forum and at local chapter meetings.