It wasn't until I hit my mid-thirties that I even began to consider what it would be like to have a child, yet suddenly it was like a switch went off in my brain. Motherhood was all I could think about. I wasn't dating anyone at the time, so I mentally sifted through the minutiae of ex-boyfriends and male friends to see who my baby-father possibilities could be. To say the outlook was bleak is an understatement.  

And so began my journey into figuring out how I could become a mom without a life partner. My quest led to a lot of confusion and angst. But now I'm the mom of a beautiful little girl who just turned 7. I also professionally coach women through their fertility journeys.

I was completely alone in figuring out how any of this works; I hope my story can be your guide.  

Deciding to become a single mother by choice 

When I began poking around the topic of single motherhood, I read some books on the subject. That was the first time I heard the term "single mothers by choice" (SMC). This was back in 2011, and I was completely astounded to find that thousands of women were having babies via sperm donation. I had never even considered this route. I turned to Google for more and discovered a SMC website, finding out there was a group that met weekly where I lived in Manhattan. 

At these meetings, I met a group of women who shared candid stories about how badly they wanted to be a mom and the hurdles in their way. There were women who were divorced, lesbian or perpetually single (like me). Each story was profound and inspiring. It not only made me want to follow this path to parenthood, it made me feel like it was possible.

My first step was to set up a preconception checkup and get a baseline sense of my fertility. My doctor looked at my follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) levels (this is the hormone that triggers eggs to grow in your ovaries) and gave me the green light to try conceiving with donated sperm

Searching for a sperm donor

I was introduced to a local sperm bank in Manhattan by one of the SMC members and took on the monumental task of sifting through donor profiles. There was so much to consider: their educational background, familial history, hobbies, demographics … It was completely overwhelming. Although my child wasn’t going to have a biological father in the home, my kid would still have half of their DNA. I wanted to make sure the person had donated sperm for the right reasons, was healthy, and that I felt good about my choice. 

I noticed that the vast majority of profiles said "closed donor" — closed means the donor wants to remain anonymous. Open means the donor is open to the child contacting him when they turn 18 years of age. That made my selection much easier. I was already making a very big life choice for my child. There was no way I could take away their chance at potentially meeting their donor one day. That criteria whittled down the pool a great deal, as well as my wish to find a donor who was either African-American, like me, or Latino. 

Weighing all the aforementioned pros and cons, I finally settled on a donor and was required to do genetic screening to make sure we did not carry any potentially life-threatening conditions. My donor passed the test with flying colors, as did I, so I set out to choose a fertility clinic.  

Starting fertility treatments

I chose a well-known fertility clinic with board-certified doctors. Before they would do any procedures, I had to meet with a psychologist. She explained to me that my donor was just that, a donor, and not a father to my child. Since the moment I made the decision to conceive with a donor, I knew I wanted to be transparent with my child – this psychologist all but required it before she would sign off on my right to conceive. I was surprised but appreciated the frankness of our conversation. Children will identify with their story, whatever that is, if they know the truth of their conception. It gives them the ability to walk through life with confidence, accepting who they are.  

From there, the lead fertility doctor recommended I begin with an intrauterine insemination (IUI) procedure since my FSH levels were good and I had a normal menstrual cycle. I was prescribed various medications to regulate my ovulation, including a “trigger shot” — an injection that helps your body release an egg. I was terrified to do this, but it wasn’t bad. I barely felt the needle, and it took just a few seconds. Although some women experience mood and body changes from fertility medication, my only side effect was a dull ache in my ovaries. 

The actual IUI procedure went by very fast. When I was on the exam table, the doctor came in with a vial of sperm, injected it into my uterus and said, "Okay, lay here for 15 minutes, then you can leave." Then the clock started on the two-week wait (TWW) period to take a pregnancy test. My post-IUI TWW came and went several times. All tests were negative. 

After several failed IUI attempts, I decided to take a pause. I was mentally and emotionally drained and not happy with the bedside manner of the clinic I was going to. One doctor constantly acted like they had better things to do, and another was surprised that, "a pretty little thing" like me wasn’t able to find a father for my child. 

Hearing the news I was waiting for

By now, I was three years and thousands of dollars into my journey. At almost 40, I felt like time was not on my side, so I decided to find a new clinic and try one more time. 

These doctors suggested I try minimal stimulation in vitro fertilization (mini-IVF). This protocol uses less medication than standard IVF and helps produce the maximum number of quality eggs in a single cycle. What followed were more medications, blood draws, egg retrievals and embryo biopsies to make sure they were chromosomally normal. Finally, after another year passed and thousands more dollars spent, I heard the news I was waiting for: I had one healthy embryo, just 6 days old. That embryo was implanted in my uterus in December 2015. 

I was in shock when the doctors told me I was pregnant! I cried with joy, yet was cautiously ecstatic. The following August, I delivered a healthy daughter with my wonderful doula by my side. 

While I went through most of my fertility process alone, I did keep in contact with a couple of the moms I met in the SMC community. It’s been nice to be able to bounce questions and concerns off of one another, and we still meet up when time allows. I’ve also been blessed to find out through the Donor Sibling Registry, a non-profit group, that my daughter has half-siblings! Three brothers and a sister, all just months apart. We keep in contact and even had a sibling day at the zoo this summer. Family is what you make it, and this non-traditional bunch has woven its way into the fabric of our lives. I am so grateful.