My twin daughters, Eve and Lily, are 14 months old. I spent the first 12 months of their lives in a state of euphoria. Don’t get get me wrong – I’m a Single Mother of Twins – it was hard, but I felt and continue to feel that for every “part” hard it was at least 3 parts amazing and awe-inspiring. Toddlerhood has been tougher. I remain in awe and in love, but I also find myself feeling overwhelmed, anxious, and scared that I suddenly won’t be able to handle the next challenge.
As I look deep inside myself at this past year and forward to the years to come, what I feel more than anything is… lucky. Pure, found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, LUCKY.
I did not ask for twins. Ok, more to the point, I did not want twins. I knew there … Continue reading
- From our online SMC discussion Forum: “The pendulum of my SMC decision-making has most recently swung toward NO WAY!! How could anyone ever do this? How could I ever do this? NO, NO, NO!!! I had been more positive about choosing to be an SMC, but I haven’t been able to shake this place I am now in. I could use some feedback about the different stages you have gone through as well as some of your thoughts and feelings about how one can do something seemingly so emotionally, physically, and financially difficult as having and raising a child alone. At the moment, only the model of two parents together works for me, no matter how I turn it around. I would like to get back to a more open place about it.”
First of all, you don’t have to do this and that’s okay. Second of … Continue reading
HAPPY LABOR DAY!
THE SMC BLOG WILL RETURN NEXT WEEK.
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If you’re a parent, chances are you’re very familiar with the word “no.” You probably hear it from your kid(s) on a regular basis, and you likely hear it coming out of your own mouth quite frequently as well. Unfortunately, in modern parenting, “no” is hard to avoid. There are little no’s — like when I ask my 8-year-old what he wants for dinner and he says “can I have a cookie?” — and then there are big no’s, like when your toddler reaches for a sharp knife or a hot stove; and most of us have times when it’s hard to tell the difference.”No” is a word that, like many other words, loses potency with too much repetition. Anyone with kids can tell you that after a while they almost seem to stop hearing “no” unless it’s said with special emphasis or in special ways.
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I spent much of this past weekend in the black leather rocker that was my nearly constant companion before I had kids. I used to spend hours in that chair, rocking and reading, losing myself for days in a Toni Morrison novel or the latest issue of Best American Short Stories or maybe 20 minutes with Alice Munro’s latest fiction in the New Yorker. But that chair and I haven’t spent much time together since my second maternity leave, since Eva’s eight short weeks of exclusive mommy bonding time expired and I returned to work and a routine that rarely affords me time to sit down, let alone read. But last week when a friend created a cash mob for our local independent bookstore, I ventured out without my children and bought two Toni Morrison novels (I’m that far behind) and the 2012 Best American Short Stories and Cheryl … Continue reading
Today I realized I should work on deciding to have one baby or more (oh if it only were as easy as playing one potato, two potatoes, three potatoes, four.)
It just so happens I recently visited my gynecologist, accompanying my mom on her routine checkup, and what seemed to be a regular morning of errands suddenly turned into an existential debate whether to possibly stay with one child or use my third vial left in attempt to get pregnant again. This turn of events happened because my doctor reminded me of the fact that I’m 37 years old and the sooner I have a baby, the better chance I have to get pregnant and having a healthy, complicated free pregnancy.
I’m not scared of the being a preggo again, I just loved being pregnant! Yes I got bloated, I was super tired all the time, I got really heavy … Continue reading
Last year at this time I was about to undergo my second round of donor insemination, and little did I know that my life was about to change forever. Deciding to be an SMC (Single Mother by Choice) was the scariest and most gratifying choice I could ever make. A friend once asked me if could live a happy life without a man in it. I said at that moment that I didn’t know but I was willing to try. However, when it came down to answering if could live my life without ever becoming a Mom, my answer with no hesitation whatsoever was NO.
So when I got the results back with a positive, I knew that my ultimate happiness was soon to come, and 40 weeks later when I held my beautiful baby boy in my arms, my life right there and then was complete. He completes me … Continue reading
The day after my donor conceived son was born, Abby, my birth partner, who I called my birth maid, told me, she had had a conversation about marriage with my dad in the car on the way back to the houseboat from the hospital. She had asked him why parents are so obsessed with their children getting married. My dad had said that he suspected that it was really about passing along genes and ensuring that the family continued. Did he care whether I got married now that I had given him a grandchild? she asked.
“Absolutely not,” he said.
My mom stayed with us for the first month after I brought Alexander home, which was a complete blur. The main thing I remember is we got adopted by a seagull that would show up on my dock and literally knock on the door with his beak around the same … Continue reading
Early on the morning of Wednesday, November 6th, I was getting ready to drive to my reproductive endocrinologist nearly two hours away, where I would have a test to determine if there was a blockage in my fallopian tubes causing the problems with my lining development. I had become incredibly disheartened by the adoption process after what had happened three weeks before (and the year before that, and all of the empty, waiting months in between), and was hoping, desperately, that this procedure would reveal the answer to my infertility issues so that the donor embryos I had on reserve would lead me to my child.
I was about to get in the shower when my phone rang. I could see from the caller ID that it was my adoption agency, perhaps calling to check up on me after the debacle of the month before. I answered, keeping my eye … Continue reading