A New Chapter

On August 10, 2011, at 3:42 pm, I got the news I’d waited almost a lifetime to hear: "Congratulations!"

I have always wanted children. When I was in elementary school, I dreamed of having seven children. I used to play house and pretended my little sister was my baby. As I got older, the number of children I wanted to have shrunk (I realized fitting seven children plus two parents into a vehicle would be logistically challenging – this may or may not have occurred to me after a cross-country road trip in a VW Rabbit with my parents, my two sisters and a chair), but the dream of children never went away.  I would grow up, go to college, meet my husband, and have my first child before 27…before the start of the new millennium.  

I did grow up.  I did go to college.  But I didn’t meet my husband.  And I celebrated the new millennium single and childless.

Starting a career, moving to a new city, starting a new career…there were dates along the way, and one longer-than-it-should-have-been relationship, but no husband…no children.  And I was now 35, halfway to 40.

All around me, friends and relatives were having children.  In 2009 I knew of more than 12 babies who were born. Every month there was another child(or two) born to a friend or co-worker, every month. Every baby shower was painful, every birth announcement, no matter how happy I was for my friend, was another reminder that I was childless.

I looked into adoption, but the cost, for a single teacher making $30,000 a year with student loans to pay off, seemed insurmountable. I looked at adopting out of the foster care system, but many of the children had special needs and needed two-parent households. I asked my doctor about artificial insemination. But I wondered about being a single parent and so I tried the dating scene again. Mr. Right still didn’t seem to be coming around.

It seemed as if my dream was going to pass me by. I started to wonder, when should I make peace with not having children? How would I go about that difficult task? I tried to tell myself I could have a full life without a child.  I tried to focus on all the wonderful things I have in my life.  But it still didn’t seem enough.

One day this spring, as I was rinsing the shampoo from my hair, I thought, I could have a child, just me, on my own. I could become pregnant, I could do it. And suddenly, the world seemed rich again with possibilities, my dream was revitalized, and every day since I’ve felt stronger, happier, and more certain I am making the right choice.

I’ve chosen to be a single mother.  I know it will be hard. I know that not everyone will support my decision (although I haven't met anyone personally yet).  But I know that I will be bringing a child into the world who will have something to give to the universe. And I am committed to being the best mother I can be.

At the end of May, at age 37 and a half, I had my first appointment at the Idaho Center for Reproductive Medicine.  I found a sperm bank, The Sperm Bank of California, and with my sister Elisabeth’s help, I chose a donor. 

4350 has red hair and loves theatre.  His message to any people getting his sperm convinced me this person was the right one to donate half of my child’s genes:  “If this process is a success for you then I would like to say congratulations! I have faith that your child will be raised with love and care and with a little luck it should find success in many of its ventures. I believe your child will be capable of nearly anything.”

On Wednesday morning, 7/27/11, I went to the ICRM for the first attempt at donor insemination.  I spent the next two weeks keeping busy so I wouldn’t think about whether or not I was already pregnant (of course I wouldn’t be on the first try, the odds were less than 20%).

And then, on August 10, I got the call. Pregnant!  Yes, on the first try!  I couldn’t believe it.  I spent the rest of the day grinning ear to ear.  I celebrated with a small dinner party, where many glasses wine were drunk, although none by me.

Some of my friends have been on this journey with me for years, some of them knew of the preparations (the meds, the shots, the Semen Order Form), others found out when I got the news.  And now, nine and a half weeks pregnant, I am starting to share the news with the rest of my world.  I've spent a lot of time trying to tell myself I was okay without a baby, shoving the dream away because it was starting to seem impossible, but it’s really happening.  It’s happening and I am so unbelievably happy. And it's time to celebrate the miracle.