Table of Contents
Have Another
By Andrea Hopkins
The only question Single Mothers by Choice seem to debate as much as “should I become a single mother by choice?” is two or three years later, “should I have another?” It’s the same questions, the same concern, plus one. Can I handle two by myself? Can I afford another? Will it be too hard? Will I ruin what I’ve already got? What if they baby isn’t healthy? What if my pregnancy or adoption journey has risks? What will happen to my first child when a second comes along? The same questions, entirely different.
I feel like a bit of an exception. I didn’t debate either question much. I always wanted to be a mother. I had few relationships, none of them long-term. I felt strong and capable of doing it alone. My family and friends were supportive. When I was three months pregnant with my first child, I ordered six more vials of the donor, planning ahead for baby #2. Of course I worried about all the things we worry about, but I never hesitated. I shared my childhood with my brother. My children would share their childhood with each other. I didn’t just want a child. I wanted children.
Claire was two years, five months old when Anna was born. Claire had been an easy baby and toddler, though always very attached to me. I loved her infancy, loved being a single mother. The biggest challenge had been loneliness; not having someone else to share the amazement over all things Claire. When I got pregnant again, Claire didn’t seem all that interested in the prospect of a baby sibling. I was worried about jealousy. I needn’t have. She was jealous, I suppose – but not the way I expected. When I’d put newborn Anna down, Claire didn’t crawl into my newly empty arms. She wanted Anna put in hers. When I co-slept with Anna in a bid to get alone time with the baby, Claire was jealous, but not of Anna getting to sleep with me. She was jealous that I got to sleep with Anna. My eager-to-please, terribly attached firstborn was more than happy to share me with her new sister, as long as I shared the new baby with her.
But even as I felt like a pack mule some days, slogging through life with an infant and toddler, I felt a perverse sense that life had gotten easier, somehow.
We’ve never looked back. A second child certainly adds work, particularly in that first year, when I was on maternity leave and the full-time mother of two, unrelentingly, 24/7, for 12 months. But even as I felt like a pack mule some days, slogging through life with an infant and toddler, I felt a perverse sense that life had gotten easier, somehow. The intensity of the one-on-one relationship between a single mother and her only child had been wonderful: the two of us against the world, in our own little world. But she had become everything to me, and I was everything to her. She wanted no one but me. I had no one but her. As intoxicating as it could be, I felt another child would be better, healthier. With a bigger family there would be other options for each of us, someone to take the spotlight a bit and to take the pressure off, to broaden the relationship.
And that’s how it has been, from the earliest days. The more they get from each other, the less they need from me. Now at age five and three, they need nothing from me for hours at a time. An only child may need a playmate, some attention, entertainment, ideas, simple companionship. Two little girls, with complementary temperaments, need nothing but each other. They go everywhere together and do everything with one another, from breakfast to bath time. They encourage each other, solve problems together, take turns leading and following. Claire’s policy of non-aggression is so inbuilt, and Anna’s confidence so sure, they are evenly matched even two and a half years apart. They like a lot of the same things, same toys, same games. They squabble, they scream, but it passes quickly, usually before I can intervene. Typically, Claire gives in to her louder, more dramatic, more demanding little sister. She sulks briefly, but gets revenge by bragging about the things she can do and the things she has that her baby sister doesn’t. Anna, God bless her, simply doesn’t care. Perfectly matched, even in their rages: Anna focused on the skirmish, Claire content to shape the endgame, both convinced they’ve the upper hand. I rarely have to look up from my book. (Siblings Without Rivalry, read and re-read).
As for finances, of course two is harder than one. Each month, it is clear there is not quite enough money to go around, and as a family, we are doing without some things. I see other families doing fun things with a twinge of envy. We don’t go to as many places. We can’t afford those lessons. We don’t wear those clothes. We don’t eat out at restaurants. Married friends have two incomes. Single friends often have one fewer child. My biggest challenge is probably financial at this point, and reminding myself I have enough. I want those things, but I don’t need them. I am working on telling other people, other SMCs, without shame, we can’t do that outing. We can’t take that vacation. We won’t go to the dinner. It’s not in the budget. Maybe next time. I assume finances will get easier with time, and for now my energy and optimism will have to suffice. When I get older and hopefully have more money, I expect my energy and strength will diminish, and I’ll switch struggles. That’s okay. I didn’t pick this path because it was easy, but because it is good, and rich with reward.
I know I’ve won the temperament lottery, and am lucky we all have good health and a secure home. I expect it to end any minute, for life to get hard (it usually seems harder in February). For now, I do everything I can not to rock the boat. We live and die by a solid routine, everyone in their own bed every night, home napping every afternoon. I’m Type A from start to finish, dictating sensible shoes, decent food, more books than TV, more play than programs. Manners matter to me, and good behavior is expected, and as long as they play by those few rules, the world is their oyster, and I’ll be reading a novel in the next room. Here again sisterhood comes in handy — a benevolent dictatorship goes over better when you have a sister to grumble with out of mom’s earshot. And all the little rules – no more TV, no more dessert, no worms in the house, no water out of the tub, no hands in the toilet, no food in the car, no dresses today, no dolls in the grocery store, no treats in the change room, no more candy, no more rides, no more singing, no more books, no bubbles in your milk, no toys at the table, no more. Enough. Stop. All of it goes down easier when two of you are being told no, and two people are told to stop. Every disappointment has an ally, and every opportunity a partner. Can we? Yes? C’mon. Let’s go. Mom said yes. Follow me. It’s an even bet who says “C’mon” more often. “Come on, Claire.” “Come on, Anna.” Come with me.
Advice on When and How to Tell the Parents Congratulations!
Congratulations! You’ve made it through the thinking phase of your SMC journey. Now what? For some that includes the somewhat dreaded and potentially difficult next step of sharing their choice with their parents. Recently a SMC member posted a question to the Forum asking for suggestions on how to have the conversation.
So I need some advice on how to tell my parents this is my plan. I have alluded to them several dozen times that my next boyfriend is going to be sperm donor vial xxxx, etc. So it’s not like they don’t know it is coming, but once I see my ob/gyn in three weeks, I am going to have to have “serious talk” with them.
They want a grandchild very much (which has nothing to do with my decision to become a SMC), so I know they will welcome the child with open arms, but I know they are concerned about the difficulty the life will put on me and the child.
Suggestions welcome.
First of all, you don’t have to tell your parents ahead of time if you don’t want to. Most married couples don’t tell their families ahead of time when they are planning to start TTC, after all.
But if you want to, that’s ok too. I told my parents very simply that I was thinking about having a baby on my own. They were kind of surprised because at the time, I was in a serious relationship! But I was getting tired of his inability to make a permanent commitment and thinking about all my options. So maybe it was easier for them to deal with hearing, because it was being presented as a possibility rather than a done deal? I’m not sure.They did express a lot of concerns about how hard it would be, and I think it was helpful that we had a while to talk it through before I was ready to move forward. I told them probably six months or so before I started trying. For me, by the time I told them I was even thinking about it, I had already done a lot of thinking and planning and realizing I could handle it. They needed some time to go through a similar process. Once I was actually trying they were very supportive and absolutely thrilled when I got pregnant.
One thing that helped me talk to mine was to explain carefully all the research I had done into making this decision and to try and be patient when they asked questions, even if the questions were annoying (what will you do when you get sick, how will you handle [insert activity of your choice] etc).
And know that they still may not be on board yet, even though they want a grandchild. My mom is enthusiastic and can’t wait for me to get pregnant, but my father still doesn’t approve, two years after that initial discussion. And know that whatever they say now, their attitudes are likely to change once they have a real grandbaby to adore!
I chose not to tell any of my family until after I was officially pregnant. I didn’t want to hear the comments, I didn’t want them to try to talk me out of it, I didn’t want the negativity
My parents sound the same as yours, in wanting a grandkid. But I chose not to tell any of my family until after I was officially pregnant. I didn’t want to hear the comments, I didn’t want them to try to talk me out of it, I didn’t want the negativity, etc. Not that I was super sure they would react that way, but I didn’t want to give them the chance. I only told my sister and one close friend. I told my brother eventually (a lot later than my sister) and swore him to secrecy.
I will say when I told them I was pregnant they were shocked and a bit confused by the news. So it took some explaining. And once the shock wore off and they “got it,” they were happy. My Mom is super excited and just wants a grandchild. My Dad is supportive, says he’s happy, but I think there’s a part of him that still feels odd about this “no dad” thing. I think he was also a bit disappointed he didn’t know before, because when I told him he said, “You could’ve told us about it before. We’re open minded, you know.” I thought it was cute that he said that.
I did say it was two years in the making and noted the amount of time I took to research and weigh my options.
I also just told my ultra-conservative grandparents this past weekend at my 12 week mark and they were surprised and shocked as well. They were both excited and happy for me, but one set in particular was SUPER excited. And one grandma got it right away, before I even had to say that it was through a donor. She was the ONLY one I’ve told thus far that got it that quick.
I think the key (for me at least) is that they know that it’s not something I just jumped into. It was planned, researched etc. I even made a baby list and budget for my mom, who was hesitantly supportive before, but is now on board. My dad knows my plan, but not the “when”.I told my Mom about six months before I started trying. I told my Dad/stepmom and other close relatives and friends at three months before ttc. Everyone was pretty good about it, except for one Aunt who surprised me with a semi-negative reaction. I had done so much research by that point though, that I had an answer to every single one of her questions and felt pretty good to have it all together in my head before discussing it.
I like the idea of not telling and not giving them a chance for negative reaction though, if you think they will have a bad reaction at all. I also tried to hint around, even to strangers at first, just to gauge what reactions might be. I was actually shocked at the number of positive and supportive reactions I got, even from strangers.
At three years into this now, it is really normal and no big deal like it was at the beginning when I was a thinker. I’m just another Mom like anyone else, and this is definitely one of the best pro-active decisions I have ever made. Being a Mom is hard for any Mom, single or married. You just do what you have to do and figure it out as you go. So worth it!
I started thinking about it long before I actually started trying, so I had talked to my mom and sister, whom I trusted, right away to think it through and talk it through with them. When I told them they were both very supportive. My aunts actually pushed me to try to have a baby on my own even before I was really ready to think about it! They knew I was getting older and wanted children. My dad also was very supportive. The only person who wasn’t was my jerky older, religious, judgmental brother. He proceeded to tell me how my kid wouldn’t have a dad, what would I tell my child, etc. Ugh. And my crazy old grandma. But I just never talked to them again about it.
I hesitated to tell my conservative, evangelical Southern Baptist parents that their single daughter was going to get knocked up by science. We are very, very close and have a strong relationship, but there was a possibility that they would disapprove. I gave them zero warning and just dropped the news on them like a ton of bricks. I rehearsed what I was going to say and talked about the soul searching and researching I had done. I figured worst case scenario, a grandchild would turn them around once they had a baby to coo over. They surprised me and were 100% on board from day one. They asked lots of questions and have been a huge support. My poor dad knows way more about my lady parts than any dad probably wants to know about his kid.
I’m glad I didn’t wait. When I got pregnant and miscarried, I needed them so much. I don’t know if I could have gotten through it without them, and I certainly couldn’t have hidden it from them. To dump my pregnancy on them at the same time as my miscarriage would have been difficult on them, plus it would have hurt their feelings.
Telling them early was the right decision for me.
For me, I talked to my super-conservative mom regarding the possibility of being an SMC someday, two years before TTC. She hated the idea, said she didn’t want a “bastard” grandchild, etc. I was sad not to have her support, but knew she’d come around and knew even if she didn’t that it’s not her decision/life, anyway, so I would go ahead. I didn’t need her permission and I didn’t bring it up again.About 18 months later, after the end of yet another heartbreaking relationship, she brought it up, and suggested that I go ahead and have a child on my own! Wow, what a turn-around! Now, she supports me unfailingly, will be my support person in classes and during delivery, and even goes to OB appointments with me. She’s been knitting little booties and hats for eight months (I’m not even five months pregnant yet)! And today, at the mention of an unsupportive acquaintance, she told me that I should tell her to, and I quote, “F#*% off!” So much for super-conservative.
By the way, the reactions I’ve gotten from everyone else – and I mean EVERY SINGLE PERSON I’ve told (and I’ve told a lot) have been wonderful, curious, and intrigued. I couldn’t count on two hands how many other people have asked about SMC/frozen sperm stuff because they are interested for themselves, their SIL, whomever.I followed this post closely because I was planning on telling my parents this weekend. They were not a part of my thinking and planning so this would be a bit of a surprise. I had really gone back and forth on telling them, but in the end decided that it wouldn’t be fair to surprise them with a pregnancy announcement. It was the last milestone I needed to complete before starting my IUIs in August. I had been a nervous wreck for a couple of days in advance. I spent a lot of time preparing to defend my decision (18 months of thinking and planning, I am in a good place professionally, emotionally, and financially, etc). In the past my parents haven’t really handled announcements of change very well. So I expected some resistance, but eventual acceptance.
They were super excited and amazingly supportive. The first thing out of their mouths was “This is great. If this is really what you want to do than you should do it.” They weren’t even remotely surprised and are really looking forward to the possibility of a grandchild 15 minutes away. There were immediate offers to babysit. I actually found myself trying to defend my choice when I didn’t even need to.
I did get a number of odd questions about sperm banks. They seemed to think that I would place an order and they would send me the grab bag pick of the day. I talked about the selection process a bit and will be happy to field the other questions that I am sure will come over the next couple of weeks. Overall, I am glad that I told them. This isn’t an easy process and I am relieved that I will be able to share my frustrations and excitement with them as I go through it.
Everything is Going to Be Alright
By Cheri Tabel
There was a night recently where I found myself as exhausted as I’ve been in a long time as a parent. I was mentally exhausted. I had been trying to get to the root of a problem with my son – he was avoiding the topic and then once he did tell me what the problem was, he spent half the night debating all the solutions I presented.
Exhausted. By a conversation with an almost-nine year old.
The days of being exhausted due to temper tantrums and keeping up with a toddler are long gone. Now the challenge seems to be how to keep up mentally with a very bright child who knows his own mind. And one who is becoming more and more aware of the real world we inhabit.
Pick any month out of the past 12 months and you most likely will recall a tragic story that received wall-to-wall coverage in the news. July 2012? Aurora. December 2012? Newtown. April 2013? Boston bombings. May 2013? Cleveland kidnap victims freed. In the last two weeks, there’s been intense focus on the Asiana plane crash and George Zimmerman trial. It is a lot for a person to absorb.
It is a lot to weigh whether or not to let your child be exposed to the events surrounding them in the world.
Last year I was adamant that he would not know of the shootings in Aurora. How could he possibly understand that? And then there was Newtown. I made the choice he would not be told about that either. The school sent a message to all parents letting them know it would not be discussed at school and it was up to the family to explain in an age appropriate way, if they so desired.
I’m exhausted thinking of the conversations that lie ahead for us.
Two days after the shooting, though, my son was watching television. I was upstairs, not really paying attention when suddenly I heard Diane Sawyer cut into programming on ABC to go live to the memorial service President Obama was attending in Newtown. I could not get down the stairs fast enough to change the channel.
He turned to me, wide eyed and said, “what happened?” He knew enough to know the situation was grave. I opened my mouth to explain and choked on my words. All I could say was, “a man with a gun hurt people.”
“A lot of people,” he asked?
“Yes,” I said.
“Is the man who did this a criminal?”
“Yes,” I said.
And then I explained the president was there to offer comfort – to the residents of Newtown and to the nation, as people were sad. That seemed to satisfy his curiosity and he moved on to another channel. Blissfully unaware in an eight year old way and taking some sort of comfort once the shooter could be labeled a “criminal.”
But the topics become harder.
When he heard of the recent plane crash, he wanted to know if anyone was hurt. I said yes. I did not tell him of the fatalities and wrapped myself in a false comfort that I was factual in responding to his questions.
This weekend, though, was more of a challenge. He was with me when the Zimmerman verdict was read live on television. He wasn’t paying attention until he saw my tears.
How do you explain what you perceive to be an injustice? How do you explain a history of injustice? How do you explain fear and bigotry? How do you explain the pain of a parent’s loss? How do you explain being killed on a walk home?
I didn’t. Because I couldn’t.
He hugged me and said, “everything is going to be alright.”
I’m exhausted thinking of the conversations that lie ahead for us. Of tragedy, of injustice, of suffering, of inequality. And I’m mentally giving myself a pep talk on how these conversations will go. Reminding myself to focus on the good (“look for the helpers,” as Mr. Rogers would say) and what we can do make a difference.
I’m blessed with an intelligent, thoughtful, empathetic child. Perhaps I should do more listening to him than to the news.
“Everything is going to be alright.”
The Things Kids Say
No doubt about it – our kids are adorable and funny. Need proof? Just read the things they say.
Mom: You ate your corn dog, but you didn’t eat your peas.
DS: I ate my ketchup though!
…..My son (three) has been reciting part of Green Eggs and Ham. I told him today that it was potty time, he came over, put down the lid and said, “NO, not in the dark, not on a boat, and not on a train, I will NOT go potty!”
…..
My daughter goes to a Jewish pre-school. She is 4 years old. A couple of days ago, I was buckling her in the car and she said, “Momma, I know the Hebrew word for vagina.” I said, “what is it?”
She said, ”crotch.”
I was visiting my parents and my mom and I were in the car and laughed and laughed.…..My son was three years old when the baby sister came along. Unfortunately, she had to stay in the hospital after mommy came home. One day I brought him with me to the NICU. He looked around, saw all the babies, and proclaimed: “This is the baby store!”
…..
We pulled up alongside a convertible with the top down the other day and my daughter says, “Her driving a broked car?”…..On our flight up to NYC a week ago, my son told me he needed to go potty. He then said, “I need you to stop the plane so I can go potty.”
I suppose since I always tell him he needs to tell me if he needs to go potty, while I’m driving, so I can stop the car, he assumes all moving objects will stop. Even planes on a cloud. I assured him we could potty while the plane was moving. On the way home he announced at the top of his lungs, “I’m going potty, but they’re not going to stop the plane.”
…..
Since my son tends to not sleep that much, I try to not wake him up when possible. So this morning, even though a school day, I hadn’t woke him and he slept all the way until 7 am – very late for him.
But he assured me he hadn’t really slept that late just to sleep – it was because he was having a very long dream that he had to finish
What’s the Buzz?
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage.
For Nina Davenport, the nursery rhyme didn’t go as planned. Still single at age 41, she decides to have a baby on her own–or rather, with the help of her best friend Amy as birth partner and her gay friend Eric as sperm donor. We see how the process of baby making affects each of their lives profoundly and in surprising ways. The film taps into the zeitgeist topic of how the modern family is being re-imagined.
“Filmmaker Nina Davenport fearlessly puts her dreams, doubts, swollen stomach, and disheveled life in front of the camera for our viewing pleasure and captures an unflinching, often hilarious, and unusually moving portrait of single parenthood in the 21st century.” – Orlando SentinelOne Woman’s Choice – A Book Review
I have a confession to make. When I think of single mothers by choice, I think of women who create a family either through a donor or adoption. When I hear “SMC” I think of women researching their options, potentially putting their bodies through a multitude of tests and procedures, or the agony of looking for and waiting for a birthmother to pick them. This is strange thinking considering that I’m a member of a group founded by a woman who found she had to make a choice, once pregnant, whether to become a mother on her own.
One Woman’s Choice is the personal story of Karen Whitaker, who struggled with the choice to become a mother after finding herself pregnant by a married man. The book opens with Karen’s childhood, including how her parents met and fell in love, details on her step-siblings, dealing with an absent father and her struggles in school. She struggled with her sense of self from a very young age. Her choices, though, as an adult are made in faith and with an unshakeable sense of what is right for her.
Ms. Whitaker supports the telling of her choices with scripture – a passage opens each chapter – and poetry, which bookends the chapter. The book is a brutally honest sharing of the choices she’s made in her adult life, including the decision to have an abortion and to consider adoption.
On her decision path, of course, are supporters and detractors. An elderly woman, who lives in Ms. Whitaker’s building, gave this piece of advice: “Karen, if you cannot raise this child and you decide to have him adopted, that does not make you any less of a woman. But if you know you can’t provide for him and decide to raise him anyway, that does.”
After finishing One Woman’s Choice, I couldn’t help but reflect on whether I would make the same decisions as Ms. Whitaker. I also questioned my own use of “SMC” to describe myself after reading this excerpt:
“I would soon learn that a single parent is very different than being a single mom or dad. Single moms and dads are co-parents who provide support to their child under two separate roofs. But a single parent is exactly that: one person providing the financial, physical, and emotional needs of that child.”
More so, though, I’m reminded that I’m grateful to live in a society where a woman is allowed to make the decision for herself (pending legislation not withstanding). And I’m grateful for the reminder that the SMC experience is as diverse as the women who find they are parenting a child on their own by choice.
SMC Donation
If you would like to make a tax-deductible donation to SMC, we are a non-profit 501.3c organization. You can send a check (SMC, PO Box 1642, NY NY 10028) or donate anywhere on the SMC website by clicking on the “Donate” button. We appreciate all donations, large or small and we will send you a letter of acknowledgement promptly after we receive your donation.
Want to be a Contact Person for SMC in your area?
The primary purpose of the CP is to welcome new members of SMC and to let them know what is happening on the local level. The CP may also assist in setting up organizational meetings for new members and organize local chapter meetings. The roles and responsibilities of a local chapter are distributed amongst those who are interested in having an active chapter. If you’re interested, contact the SMC office at smc-office@pipeline.com.
Michelle Bornstein, michigas@gmail.com, is a new CP for Louisville, KY
Sarah McCauley Morris, sarahmorrismccauley@gmail.com, is a new CP for Louisville, KY.
Cheryl Collier, ccollier11@woh.rr.com, is the new CP for SW Ohio.
Lisa Huriash, LISAHURIASH@YAHOO.COM, is the new CP for South Florida (Broward, Palm Beach and Miami-Dade counties).
Amanda Gilman, AKGILMAN@SBCGLOBAL.NET, is the new CP for the southeast Wisconsin/Milwaukee area.
Alison Schneider, alisoneschneider@yahoo.com, is the new CP for the Milwaukee, Wisconsin area.
Jackie, JSTROHME1974@YAHOO.COM, is the new CP for Jacksonville Beach, Florida.
Apryl Marie Fogel, aprylmarie@gmail.com, is the new CP for Birmingham, Alabama.
Karen Beatty, karen.beatty@bnymellon.com, is the new CP for Pelham, New York.
Arrivals
Michelle Walton announces the birth of her son. He was born on November 18, 2012. He weighed 8 lb, 12 oz at birth and was 20 inches long. His name is Alexander Kyu Walton. “I LOVE being a mommy!!”
Ava Elizabeth Anderson Max was born to Whitney Max on December 24th, 2012. “She is perfect in every way!”
Debbie Carlo (CP in Fort Worth, TX) is proud to welcome her son, Brian David Carlo, born on January 27, 2013. 7 lbs, 20 3/4″ long.
Remember to notify us when you become a mother!
If you have someone new in the house please send the information to ctabel@hotmail.com.