It’s the most cliched of resolutions, but I really do want to aim for a healthier lifestyle in the coming year. Certainly, I have the same reasons as anyone else might – more energy, less stress – but I also believe that, as my son gets older, I have an opportunity now to devote more of my mental energy to my own well-being. Our single-mom families are incredibly rewarding, but they can also be emotionally draining at times. My son is 7, so I don’t expect him to pick up on all the subtleties right now, but I hope that 2020 might offer a chance for me to model self-care for him. He needs to understand that, like him, I’m a person with my own likes, dislikes, needs and wants.

Let’s all look forward to a new year where we can take opportunities to care for ourselves the way we care for our children.

 

How do single moms date and maintain relationships? It’s a question that comes up frequently among thinkers and tryers, but it’s also a topic of conversation for moms with children, as well.

To be clear, SMCs prove every day that mothers can raise healthy and happy children without a parenting partner. But being a single mother does not mean that adult relationships are off the table. Such relationships can be logistically and emotionally challenging, but SMCs who are interested in dating are pursuing that path with the same ingenuity, energy and care that they used to build their families.

I talked to six SMCs who are dating, engaged or married. They shared their thoughtful perspectives on how they make their partnerships work, and how those relationships intersect with their identities as SMCs. Their responses have been lightly edited for length and clarity:     

Eleni and her 2-year-old son live in Quebec.

Jennifer has a 4-year-old son. A special education teacher, Jennifer lives in the Bronx and is engaged, with a wedding date planned for July.

JP lives with her nearly 10-year-old son in the Mountain West.

Lyons lives in Richmond, Va. with her 7-year-old son.

Maria has two sons, ages 5 and 15 months. Her older son was conceived when Maria was an SMC; she shares her younger son with her husband. She lives in southern New Jersey.

Tania has a three-year-old son and 6-month-old daughter. They live in Mexico.

A lot of SMCs talk about how challenging it is to meet new people while parenting and working full time. It’s easy to let the day-to-day challenges swallow up all your time and energy. How have you met new people, and was it different before and after you had a child?

Eleni: Online dating. I became more selective about who I was going to go out with and messaged a lot with potential dates prior to meeting in person. That was a difference from when I wasn’t a parent, when I would basically give a chance to any ‘maybe’ guy that was decent enough. Over the span of 6 months I had about 5-6 first dates, so it wasn’t that energy draining.

Jennifer: In the beginning, when my son was a baby, I really had no energy or desire to date. My son was about 2 1/2 years old, and I started to feel that I was just a mom and teacher. I wanted to feel like someone was interested in who I was as a woman, so I signed up for Match.com. At that point I didn’t even want to date, I just wanted someone to message and flirt a little. That changed when I met someone who seemed worth figuring out my schedule to try and meet him.

JP: I used online dating sites before dating apps were a thing.

Lyons: Most of the dating I’ve done has been online. I’ve primarily used OkCupid and Tinder. I dated quite a bit prior to having a kid. I didn’t date at all for the first 2.5 years of parenthood, but then I decided to prioritize dating and meeting new people. For a while I had a roommate who was another SMC, and we traded babysitting, which worked out great. Another strategy I’ve used is scheduling a first coffee date during the day, when work permits. Once I know someone and am comfortable with them, I usually invite them to come over and hang out at my place after my kiddo is asleep.

Maria: It was the same both before and after having children. I met men through online dating apps.

Tania: I met the last guy I dated pre-kids on Tinder. We dated for a year. I was on dating apps after my first was born, but never went on any dates. I met my current beau 13 years ago. We randomly reconnected when I was 16 weeks pregnant with my daughter!

When did you first explain to potential partners that you were a single mother by choice, or that you were pursuing single motherhood? Is it something to get out of the way early, or is it worth waiting to see if there’s mutual interest?

Eleni: I mentioned it in my profile and made sure to discuss it over messaging prior to meeting to avoid any misunderstandings.

Jennifer: When I felt it was a man that I wanted to meet. I was open and honest about how I conceived my son. I wanted to be sure that whoever I gave my time to was someone who would be supportive of the path I took, not judgmental.

JP: I always mentioned it in my dating profile. It was important that my potential partner know I do not share custody with a co-parent. I have my child every weekend and every holiday.

Lyons: I discuss this very early when meeting new people. My dating profiles say I’m a single parent, and I usually clarify single parent by choice once I start chatting with someone. It comes up naturally when talking about needing child care for making plans to get together.

Maria: When I was trying to conceive, I explained it immediately, as I was sure this was the plan for me and I needed people to know this was what I was doing. I found a lot of men wanted to scoop in and save me as the potentially pregnant mom, which turned me off. So, I decided early on to stop dating when TTC as I wanted to soak up every moment of it and I didn’t want to share any moments with someone who might not be in our life long term. The feminist in me wanted to just have it be for me to enjoy on my own terms. I told my husband on my first date. He asked about my son’s dad as we were crossing the street holding hands.

Tania: My guy knew I was an SMC when we reconnected. He was floored when I told him I was pregnant again! I was pretty sure I had scared him off but to my surprise he stuck around.

When, and how, have you introduced potential partners to your children? Is there a difference in how you might have handled this when your children were infants/toddlers, compared to when they were older?

Eleni: Pretty quickly, by circumstances. For example, the guy I am currently seeing will spend 2-3 nights at my place every week, so will inevitably see my son in the morning when he leaves. He interacted with my son more about 2 months into our dating.

Jennifer: In the beginning, it was hard to find sitters on a regular basis. So, since my son was almost 3 at the time, I started bringing my now-fiancé around. I introduced them within a month, not only because it made it easier for us to plan outings that included my son, but also because I wanted to see how they interacted. If I had felt that this match was not for my son as well as me, I would not have continued my relationship. At that age, my son just knew him as a friend.

JP: When we decide to date exclusively. The first meeting was always in a museum or at a park to give them both the opportunity to have breaks or have a common thing to explore/discuss (i.e. a museum, bowling or park). I managed it the same when my son was in preschool, though he has no recollection of my dating before he was 5.

Lyons: I’m comfortable with introducing new partners early on, assuming I have a good gut feeling about the person. The dynamic has changed somewhat as my kiddo has gotten older since he knows more about relationships and is more verbal. I’ve never regretted introducing him to someone, but I will say it was challenging for both of us when a serious relationship ended suddenly and unexpectedly a couple of years ago. We spent a lot of time with that person and their kid, and it was an abrupt change when we were no longer seeing them. I think it was difficult for my kiddo to understand why something like that would happen and why we couldn’t remain friends (that wouldn’t have worked for me personally in this situation).

Maria: I introduced my son early when he was less than a year for the first guy, and then after a year when I met my husband. In part it happened as I had limited babysitting options, and they were early getting-to-know-you dates and not particularly romantic initially.

Tania: My kids are young, but I firmly feel that it’s important not to make a big deal of meeting partners. Our early dates were at the playground and the zoo. They involved my son and low-pressure activities. We all had fun and they easily became comfortable together.

We continue our conversation about SMC dating and relationships on the SMC Forum boards, where we’ll talk more about relationship challenges and rewards. The second part of the article can be found HERE:  https://forums.singlemothersbychoice.org/viewtopic.php?f=25&t=35562#p642698

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In the popular media, single mothering by choice is sometimes about these crazy women who go looking for sperm donors like they’re ordering pizza toppings — Tall? Check. Good SAT scores? Check. Mushrooms? Check.

In reality, it’s not about the sperm. It’s not about the donor. It’s not about the turkey baster or the petri dish. It’s about the milky smell of a newborn, the little fingers that clutch mine when we cross the street, the worries about paying for college and whether the plastics and the scented baby shampoo will poison my toddler. It’s about motherhood, not hatred of men. So that’s why I’m leaping to add my voice to this blog. I want people to understand why so many of us are doing this. I’ve always known I was a mother, I just needed a little help to get there. And I thank God — thank God thank God thank God — that I’m here.

My journey started earlier than some. It was about 2004, maybe 2005, and I was watching The West Wing. CJ Craig, the smart, funny, aging press secretary talked about it possibly being “too late” for her, about how her wonderful career was wonderful, but perhaps all she would get. No husband, no kids. I was a Washington-based reporter, having a great career, very happy, 32 years old. And boy, did CJ’s musings hit home. After the episode ended, I called my mom in Canada, knowing that she, too, had watched. And I said “So when do you think I should start trying to have kids?” And she said she thought I could start anytime. It was an acknowledgment of what we both knew: that I was unlikely to get married, that time was ticking, that I was meant to be a mom. I really was. I was that child, that teenager, that woman who monopolized other people’s babies at family get-togethers and public events. I babysat — not just as a teenager, but as an adult. I’d meet new colleagues, find out they had kids, and offer to babysit for them. I doted on my nephew and niece.

As I got older, and rarely dated, I got more and more terrified that I would never get to be a mother. And terror is the word. I could not imagine being 45 and single and childless, STILL doing the same things, decades of movies, dinners out, drinks with the girls, great career, world travel, books, long hikes on the Appalachian Trail on the weekend with my hiking club. And then 55, no kid in college, no grandchildren on the way, and then 65, alone, 75, with my six cats … you get the idea. A wonderful life at 30 is a lonely life at 40, 50, 60, 70.

Of course it was not just a TV character who spurred my decision. When I was younger, in my 20s, I read a biography of a Canadian journalist who’d adopted two girls from China. She was single, and successful, and this was her family. And I stored away that story as a possible option for me. I knew then that I dated much less that others, I’d had no long-term relationships, I didn’t seem to fit that mold. I’d found a few good guys, but never love. When other people were making semi-joking pledges with platonic friends that if neither of them had met their life partner by age 35, they’d marry each other, I was making a pledge to myself that if I hadn’t met my children’s father by 35, I’d do it myself.

My final decision to go ahead was made the Christmas I was 32. I’d gone home to my parents’ house in Canada to spend the holidays (the perpetual child, returning home as if from college, because I didn’t have my OWN family yet) and we’d had a big get-together for the extended family, all of the uncles and aunts and cousins. At some point in the evening, as my niece and nephew and all my cousins’ kids tore around the house, I realized I was the only one there over the age of 11 who was NOT a parent. Everyone else, all of my aunts and uncles and cousins, had bred. Everyone in the room had children. My cousins were busy dishing out plates of food for their kids, and my mom and aunt were taking care of my grandmother — generations helping each other in both directions. And I had no one to care for. The maiden aunt at 32. When I got back to Washington after the holiday, I wrote in my journal that this was the year I would start looking for my child.

I’d always sort of assumed I would become a mom through adoption. But as I looked into a few things, and read the Single Mothers by Choice book by Jane Mattes, my thinking started to change. As a Canadian living in America as a non-permanent resident alien, I could not bring a child home through international adoption. One adopting parent had to be a U.S. citizen. Going the adoption route would mean quitting or transferring with my job back to Canada, and starting over from there. Surprisingly enough, getting pregnant with the help of an anonymous donor seemed like it might be an easier route.

I made my appointment with my doctor — a reproductive endocrinologist — shortly thereafter. At my first visit, we sat in his office to discuss my path. He said at 32 there was no rush, a year this way or that way did not matter. We settled on a course of treatment to prepare. I went off the Pill. Testing began. I’d had endometriosis and there were various complications with my cycle. During the year that I waited for my cycle to regulate and the tests to be completed, I joined the international organization, Single Mothers by Choice, and started attending a few meetings of like-minded “thinkers” and “tryers” — those on the road to becoming moms, but not yet there. I also lost weight and tried hard, one last time, to meet someone. I did speed-dating. I wore more make-up, dressed more stylishly, batted my eyes, tried not to intimidate men with my career and intelligence. The few matches I tried included men who still lived with their parents, who hated their jobs, were depressed, were infantile, were married and dating on the sly (ugh). I stayed single.

When I was 33, I did my first insemination with sperm from an anonymous donor that my best friend had helped me choose. All of my close girlfriends knew I was going down this path, and my parents knew as well. They were nervous, but supportive.

Once you start down the fertility treatment path, it sucks you in pretty quickly, and with each negative pregnancy test I got more and more worried. I worried it would never happen. I might not get to be a mom. I considered whether I could cope with that — certainly my career would have to get even more important. Perhaps I could be a war correspondent? Something really exciting and time-consuming. A White House correspondent? There’s a job for childless people!

After six failed insemination attempts, my doctor started talking about IVF. It would really boost my chances, he said. And while when I first started down the path I thought I’d never do IVF (too radical, too desperate, too much), by then I was ready to make the leap. Easily. I was committed, and I wanted a child more than ever. IVF it was.

That was three years ago. Today I’m the mom to a 2-year-old girl named after my mom, who was with me for the labor and birth. I’ve moved back to Canada after nine years abroad, and I am happier than I could ever imagine. My evenings are full of visits to playgrounds and libraries, and on the weekend you’ll find us at the zoo, or the wading pool, or in the backyard with all of our very large plastic toys. I am embarrassingly thrilled to be part of the club of moms. 

I am one of those who care too much about children and parenting and have too little interest in life outside the world of toddlers. I haven’t seen a movie since my daughter was born. The only hikes I take are ones with my daughter in the backpack, eating her goldfish from a snack cup, no longer than an hour or there will be trouble. And I love it. I was done with movies and dining out and self-absorption (I don’t mean that judgmentally of others, simply that I’d grown bored of a life that was all about me). I still read books, just don’t ask me the titles or authors. My career is still important — because it pays the bills. I do worry a bit that I won’t ever advance up the career ladder like I once might have, but mostly I worry about how I don’t care about it anymore. My dirty secret is motherhood really does make me a less committed employee, at least for now.

While becoming a single mom once seemed like Plan B — after finding a man didn’t work — I now realize this was my path all along. I was meant to be a single mom. I’m type A, I like having all the control. I like making all the decisions. I like getting up when she cries at night. I like being the one to read all the bedtime books and give all the kisses. I drink up her unconditional love and admit I am amazed, touched, stunned, that anyone could love me as much as she loves me (okay, therapy required for that one). My married friends with babies admit to me they don’t love their husbands as much as their babies, it doesn’t even come close. Their early baby days are full of resentments and struggles to balance the marriage and the baby. Mine have not been. They’ve been blissfully about just me and her. All-consuming and fantastic.

And because I’m aware my daughter deserves more than the glare of her mother’s constant love and attention, and because I would like nothing more than a house full of kids, more kisses, more cuddles, more shrieks and giggles and yes, even more tears and more worries and more work, I did IVF again last year and am expecting baby #2 in just a few weeks.

I have no regrets. I’m glad I pursued a great career and had lots of fun doing it. I’m glad I traveled and dated in my 20s and early 30s. And I’m glad I live in a time when becoming an SMC is not only possible, but relatively easy. I’ve been blessed by decent fertility, a stable income, and supportive family and friends. I am so grateful to be a single mother by choice.

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Kid: Those cookies have death.

Me: <Mentally prepares for another talk about dead things>

Kid: A lot of things have death. And whip.

Me: ??

Kid: You have death too, mom.  Like a cube… death, whip, and height.

……….

Anna: So, Joseph is Jesus’ pretend dad, right? Jesus has a donor like me, right?

Me: … um, sort of!

……….

E, while grabbing a belly roll: why you have bubbles, mommy? Is your tummy full?

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We’d like to give a warm welcome and express our thanks to our newest SMC Contact Persons:

Geri Gump-  Cary/Triangle Area, NC  gerigump@yahoo.com

Kathleen Curtin- New York City, NY katcurtin@yahoo.com

Mary Noonan- Iowa City, IA mary-noonan-1@uiowa.edu

Michal Barnea- White Plains, NY mbarnea@gmail.com

Pam E- Los Angeles, CA peisenla@aol.com

Does your area need a Contact Person (CP)? Might you want to be one? Do you have any questions about being a CP? Let us know and we’ll be glad to discuss it with you. Contact Jane at our office: office@singlemothersbychoice.org

……….

SMC Blog Submissions

Do you have a blog about your SMC journey? Did you know that SMC has a blog on our website? We’d love to know about your blog  and possibly use some of your posts on our SMC Blog.  Our blog posts are public, but posts can be anonymous.  If you are interested in sharing your posts, send an email, with a link to your blog, to our office: office@singlemothersbychoice.org

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Have you heard about FertilityIQ? I am very excited to share this great resource. FertilityIQ is a platform where verified fertility patients anonymously assess their fertility doctor, nurse, clinic, billing department and more. The data is free and really helps in choosing (or avoiding) a doctor or clinic.

SMC has an opportunity to both contribute to Fertility IQ and to benefit SMC. Thinkers and tryers can look up other women’s experiences with clinics and doctors. Those who are pregnant or already moms can help those just starting out by providing information about their fertility doctors.

We would appreciate your filling out a survey about your experiences with fertility doctors. And FertilityIQ will make a donation to SMC for everyone referred by us who assesses their fertility doctor on their site!

To ensure that SMC gets a donation for your survey, just type in “SMC” in answer to the question at the end that asks, “did someone suggest you assess your doctor?” (You can also forward this to anyone who may be interested in doing a survey. As long as they put “SMC” as the answer to that question, we will get credit.)

Please be as detailed as possible so that others may benefit from your experience.

You can go here: https://www.fertilityiq.com/survey-intro to do an assessment of your fertility doctor.

Thanks to all in advance for filling out the surveys and for spreading the word about this!

Jane

You can see profiles of FertilityIQ in the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times .