From SMC members on our  lively and wonderful online Forum:

I’m 41 and decided this year I will attempt to be an SMC. I first thought about it three years ago but then decided to do two rounds of egg freezing instead (got 20 eggs).

But I had second thoughts, and then met a guy. He wasn’t the “one” but it made me believe I don’t want to give up on child with a partner just yet. Since then I made many life changes and had some amazing life experiences.

But now I’m older, eggs are older, and also I feel I’m really ready to be a mom. My career only fulfills me so much, and I want to give and have continuity. A child, sadly, is a more reliable source of love than men.

I’m scheduled for an insemination next month. Of course, right after I made an

When I started this blog, I told myself that I would post regularly, that this space would help me find my writing voice again.  And it has certainly done that, giving me a place to work through some of the complicated emotions that I’ve been experiencing since I began this adoption journey.  Many women, after all, keep pregnancy blogs, documenting each new bodily sensation, the growing, tangible evidence that, in a specified amount of time, there will be a baby.

While waiting to adopt, though, there is nothing tangible: no growing belly, no swelling ankles, no blame-it-on-the-hormones bouts of moodiness.  No timeline.  In a normal pregnancy, there are nine months to plan and prepare, a date in the future that clearly delineates the before and after of baby’s arrival.  In a normal adoption wait, there is… nothing.  There is daily life as usual, and that life could last nine months,

I spent three years deciding whether or not to become a Mother on my own. During that time I worried a lot about how I would tell people that I had gotten knocked up by a sperm donor. The words stalled in my brain. I worried what people would think and what they might say. Worse still, I worried what my child might think of me.

Anyone who knows me would be surprised to hear this. I’m generally a person who doesn’t much care what other people think. It was so alien to me to be spending time on these thoughts. Normally I’d be a ‘do it now, worry later’ kind of gal. This was too big for that kind of impulsivity. I also work in a restaurant and as such have a lot of people that I’d have to explain a pregnancy to. That’s a lot of reactions to

An alternative to the old (and outdated) ‘Once upon a time…’

I never had much interest in princesses, preferring jeans and sneakers to ball gowns and glass slippers even as a young girl. But that’s not to say that I didn’t grow up thinking someday I’d experience my own fairytale romance. When I reached 35 and was still single, though, I started to think that fantasy would never morph into my reality.

In the two years since, my ‘Once upon a time’ has taken some drastic turns. Tired of waiting for my prince to arrive and fed up with unsuccessfully scouring the suburban realms for him, I decided to skip the being-swept-off-my-feet stage, at least for now. Instead I chose to jump right to the chapter of the story entitled Motherhood. As any writer does, I made a few edits and a few errors. And life threw in some plot

I am choosing to become a mom on my own, and this is an enormous project that, like any enormous project, can only really be done in tiny steps. Baby steps. Every day, I have maybe one step to take. Later on, there may be several, or it may feel like all the steps need to be taken at once, or like stepping has turned into a big exhausted tangle. But that’s when someone will remind me to check back in with the Buddha who brings me back to the present. The path IS the goal, yo.

What led up to this decision?

When my last serious relationship ended last fall, I signed up the next day to become a member of  Single Mothers by Choice (SMC) and began hatching my plan to become pregnant on my own. I had been so impatient for so long. This was the most

Once I had decided that I was going to try to have a baby on my own it was time to start thinking about who was going to father said child.  I considered all the options, some more than others…

• One Night Stand?  Totally out of the question for me.  Gross/diseases/timing and of course morality.
• Known Donor?  I considered this briefly after a ‘close male friend’ offered.  It has its pros and works for some people but I didn’t want the danger of ever having to fight for full custody of my child.  I also didn’t want to be tied to this person for the rest of my life.
• Sperm Bank?  Overwhelming as there are so many.  For me this was the most logical way even though it was the most expensive.

Once that decision had been made there were a barrage of decisions behind it.  I decided against an 

“I was just thinking last night, ‘I wonder what K will tell me tomorrow?'”

That was my mentor’s response. “What’s new?” asked my mentor. I reared back in my seat to reveal my bump. Her eyes were as big as saucers. I think she immediately knew what I meant, but she had to catch herself and asked, “Are you….?” I confirmed that I was indeed pregnant. She was so happy for me and announced, “Oh, I want to be Aunt L!” She confessed that she was always intrigued by what I would say each month when we met. But, boy, she never expected anything like this! It was nice to see that she was so supportive and offered her help if I needed anything. “Sometimes, you just need to tell people what you need and let them take care of it.” And subtly cautioned me on my ardent independence.

Of

During this Single Mother by Choice (SMC) journey I’ve realized that there are two versions of myself: me before making the decision to try the SMC path and me after making the decision to go the SMC path.

Let me tell you about the pre-SMC me. She was like the Rabbit from Alice In Wonderland. Rushing all around town, trying her very best to meet, date, and marry Mr. Right. Why? Because her biological clock was ringing quite loudly in her ear and the voices in her head kept shouting: “hurry up, hurry up, you’re late! Late! LATE!!” It was such a sad, frustrating, and frenetic time!

And then something shifted. I decided to start dating myself. I began with solo trips to the movies and even sampling restaurants with just me, myself, and I. It became routine and quite fun to take myself out whenever and wherever I fancied.

A year has passed, and I’m still sitting at the kitchen table, working on the computer, with only the cat keeping me company. My heart is still trilling with excitement, my stomach still churning with anxiety. At first glance it might seem nothing has changed.

But, really, everything has changed.

A year ago I made the decision to start this journey toward single motherhood. I spent countless hours researching fertility centers, reading blogs of other single mothers, finding books on raising children conceived with donor sperm. My excitement stemmed from knowing I was making a decision that would forever change my life. My anxiety stemmed from fears of finances, worries of whether my closest family and friends would be supportive of such a decision, and, yeah, the realization that I was making a decision that would forever change my life.

While part of me thought things would move much faster

Sitting in my office at work today, I realized that one year ago I was in the midst of trying to decide if I truly could make the leap to begin Trying To Conceive (TTC), as a single mother. This deliberation placed me face to face with all of my fears including:

• What if having this baby prevents me from meeting Mr. Right, down the road?
• What if this baby comes and instead of feeling bliss, I feel resentment that my childfree life is gone?
• What if this baby comes and we don’t gel personality wise?
• And the mega-of-all what-ifs… What if I completely lose my sense of self, as I’ve seen so many mothers do?

These and many other thoughts swirled around in my mind, as I struggled with the concept of facing this momentous life event… alone… Alone – what a hollow word; I was still wrestling with