Why I chose "no" to single motherhood

This is from Shelley, who has opted not to become a Choice Mom. It's so hard to find the voices of those who leave the community, so I am grateful to her for letting me post her story:


I never really wanted to become a single mother by choice but because of the tick tick tick I was felt really pressured to make a decision - yes or no. I had many people pushing me to do it.

I have always been a natural mother and never imagined I would be single in my late 30's facing this AWFUL decision. I had a successful career and dating has been a challenge but I always was sure that my destiny was to be married and have a family and that I just had to trust that it would happen.

At about 38 I decided I had to actually seriously investigate having children by myself so I could forgive myself in the future if I changed my mind. I ordered your book and a few others and read them all cover to cover. I even went online and did a little research into sperm donors. Turns out you can buy some pretty damn impressive sperm, which I have to admit looks like a cakewalk compared to dating and finding a good mate. I felt humiliated and depressed that I would even have to consider this option - look at how many losers are having babies that shouldn't even be moms.

I had looked into freezing my eggs at 37 when it first became available to the public but at that point they were only working with women under 35 - another insult. A few months before turning 39 a friend said 'why don't you freeze your eggs' and I told her it was not available at my age and she challenged that...so I did a little bit of research and found that 45 minutes from my home there was a doctor that would work with me. I did 2 rounds to get 11 eggs and it was the best $20,000 I spent.

This was a huge commitment. I was really going to have children no matter what. I had gone the extra distance and there was NO guarantee that my eggs would work when I wanted to use them. And of course I was still holding hope that I would get to do it the old-fashioned way with the right guy... but I knew when I made that decision that I was totally committed to having a family some way. I still thought that if I did not find a mate by 40 that I would go ahead and have one baby on my own - referring to my frozen eggs and "baby number 2."

But something happened in that year. I had a family trauma come up and I realized that I could not imagine raising children by myself. In the most perfect of times it would be sad and lonely and feel selfish to have put my needs over my child's. But in times of drama or trauma I needed a partner. I knew that I couldn't do it.

I decided that who the father of my children is was the most important thing. That even if I have to do 10 rounds of IVF and then try to use my eggs and then try donor eggs and then on to adoption there are options to have a baby with an amazing man and that my children deserved that.

I am still seeking that man. And, at 41 1/2, the tick tick tick is pretty hard to deal with. It really is like a biological monster sometimes, but I know I made the right decision. Men are so happy to hear about my freezing of my eggs.

I might add to all of this that I lost my biological father to suicide. I have an amazing stepfather, but the loss of a father at an early age makes you realize how hard it is on families to not have a father.

I don't judge anyone for their decision - but for me this is what is right.

Jealousy and judgment during the holidays

The holidays can be a heightened time to feel jealousy about other lives around you, or judgment from family members who don't approve of single parenting. Judgment and jealousy is the topic of the "Choosing Single Motherhood" radio show that goes online December 6. And it's a topic showing up on the Choice Mom discussion board these days.

One woman posted about her emotions -- wishing she had more of what she saw others with, including wishing she didn't have to be Thinking about Choice Motherhood. Here are a few responses to her post.

Including one from Heather, age 36:
My ex-boyfriend and I broke up this past February after 4 1/2 years together. He led me to believe that there would be a proposal and children coming soon so I kept hanging on. I felt incredibly angry that I was in this situation, but I directed a lot of the anger towards him. I was miserable and very depressed until I started looking into my options about becoming a single mother by choice. I was in the thinking stage for about 6 months as I worked on mourning the relationship. I actually had a rougher time being around pregnant woman before my break-up because it felt like having a child was so far away. After I started thinking about trying to conceive, I felt like I had this big opportunity that I never thought of before. Now, as I'm TTC I feel more jealous when I see families together or happily married couples (my neighbor just got married and I caught myself thinking for about a half an hour "Why isn't that me?"). I'm trying to focus on the thing that I really want now, which is a baby, and the jealousy/anger of my relationship ending is subsiding because I feel like I'm doing something about my future.

Wrote Lori:
I think what you're feeling is very normal, and part of the process of grieving over the loss of "the dream." I'm still in the thinking stage too, but the biggest hurdle for me is financial. I have my dream job as a biologist, but the paycheck is not steady and the jobs are intermittent (I'm a contractor) and I'm having trouble letting that go to have a child (I know it wouldn't be fair to the child to have such an unstable life). My biggest frustration is that I feel like I have to choose between a career I love in order to have a baby and I'm not ready to do that. Luckily, though I'd love to have a biological child, I find the idea of adoption as rewarding as having a biological child, so I don't have a biological clock clanging in my head. I feel like, if I were to have a baby now, it would be because I'm running out of time and that's just not a good enough reason for me.

My neighbour is very pregnant, due any day now and my brother and his wife are expecting twins in the spring. It seems like I really notice pregnant women now like I never did before, though I can't say I have trouble being around them. I've noticed that my internal dialogue with myself is often a fantasy of becoming a single mother, rather than meeting Mr. Right. It's like I've given up on Mr. Right at 34. I like the idea of a healthy, happy relationship - and I know plenty of people in one (and plenty of people in an unhealthy and miserable relationship) - but I can't seem to find it or make it happen so I've felt like I've sort of moved on and am creating my new dream. It helps me feel like I have more control of my life, whether it's true or not!

When I'm confused about something, I usually ask myself what I really want to do if I felt no one would judge my choice and if it was possible. Then I think of the steps it would take to get me there and I do it one step at a time. Ask yourself what's important to you in the big picture. Is it the lack of knowing how supportive your family would be? I know that my mother would be very upset if she knew I was thinking of having a baby on my own - but I also know she would love that baby like no other once the baby arrived. I find that once I've committed to something and believe in myself, no one can really derail me because I've already thought about all their arguments against it. Where I get frustrated is when I haven't completely made up my mind.

I hope this helps - if it didn't really help, just know that there are thinkers on this list who feel pretty stuck and sometimes frustrated too.

What about you? What emotions are you feeling this holiday season?

We don't need the guy to chop down trees

There was some great insight on the Choice Mom discussion board today, in response to a few women who are struggling with mixed feelings about embarking on the Choice Mom journey. One woman, in fact, suggested that taking this step makes her feel like a failure for not being able to find a partner and a second parent for her future child. To this, Caroline, who gave me permission to reprint here, responded:


I wouldn't look at it like a failure that you can't meet someone good enough, but as a testimonial to you as a successful and independent woman that you've got higher expectations and are not willing to settle for just anyone. (Almost) ANYONE can meet someone to marry and have kids with. But that's not our goal.

The CEO of a Fortune 500 company does not consider it a failure on his part (or his company's part) that most applicants who apply do not meet their criteria and are therefore rejected. So why should you (or I) for finding a mate? At least companies can layoff and fire employees if they don't work out. We can't. If we have a child with this person, we're tied to them for life.

Frankly, because women have gained more rights and have been allowed to compete equally with their male counterparts in the past few decades, I'm not the least surprised that we've reached this point where Choice Motherhood/SMC is a viable and healthy option and even a preferred route for many women.

Traditionally, women needed the guy to have a family, to help manage the house and life, just like they've needed the dozen kids to tend to the fields. But lifestyles and opportunities have obviously changed. We don't need the dozen kids and we don't need the guy to chop down the trees.

And when you're down, google "divorce rates" or "divorce custody fights."

Give up a relationship?

Nothing can be harder for many women than deciding whether to give up a relationship with someone who doesn't want children in order to become a Choice Mom. Many women are coming to the Choice Mom discussion board with just that situation. Here's one of those stories, with her query about how other women in this situation have decided whether a relationship or a child was ultimately most important to her.

I'm 32, new here and awfully glad I found this group! Three years ago, I fell for this amazing guy. He has two kids from a previous relationship and was perfectly positive that he didn't want any more, so he had a vasectomy. I never thought I would have my own kids so we started this wonderful story together.

About a year ago, baby thoughts started to creep up on me. I pushed them away, freaking myself out each time. Recently, my boyfriend and I discussed buying a house together and I find myself torn. I don't know if I want a baby. So I asked him what would happen if I was to want one in a couple of years (even if I was to have it on my own, with donor).

It came down to this: You want a baby, I can't live through that again, so I would understand your need to move on without me; OR you need to be sure that you are okay with the fact that if we build our life together, we won't have a baby in the house, ever.

I never imagined having those baby thoughts when we first started dating. After searching for "the one," I found him. Now, I have to decide between my "one" or a baby that I'm not 100 percent that I want yet (still on the fence).

I have a hard time picturing my life with a baby, but I also can't really picture it without. How did you women know that you truly wanted a baby?

From vacillating thinker to elated tryer...

submitted by Susan

I joined the Choice Mom discussion board several months ago and was in the thinking stage. I am now about to start trying. I started my initial workups last December then stopped to date some more and now I am back.

For those that are in the thinking stage, one thing I wish I'd done was written down all the things I was feeling and worried about. Because honestly, now I can't remember what they were...I just remember it being a good six months of angst and anxiety and depression. Is it just me, but have other tryers gotten this serene, peaceful feeling after you've made this decision? After I decided this (and it stuck) everything else kind of lock-stepped into place. It's almost like you stop fighting the universe and everything starts to make sense.

Honestly, I think this is the greatest idea since sliced bread. I am so happy. I get to decide when to get pregnant (hopefully it will work!). I get to decide how to decorate the nursery, how to set up the college fund, what to name the baby, etc. I think it's so...cool.

For whatever reason that sense of loss about "I don't have this guy in my life" is replaced by this sense of happiness. Maybe it's that I'm taking control of my life and putting me first. Not sure. But in any case, I'm so excited (in a terrified, life-changing kind of way).

My period is supposed to start today (never have I wanted one so much!) and then they start me on Clomid because I have a 21-23 day cycle and they want to even it out. So, here's hoping.

Now that I'm at this stage I'm just so happy. I never expected this to feel so rock solid right. I was someone who vacillated back and forth between "no way" and "this is my only option" for a good six months (and before that I thought about it "lightly" for a good year).

One thing I may add is that I completely expect to panic a little when I get the BFP. My sister, who wanted kids since birth and took two years to get pregnant, said she did. I think it's a natural reaction to any life-changing event.

What about anyone else out there? Does it just feel rock solid right?
In some weird way, this feels like it was meant to be.

My Unanswered Question

submitted by Marynell

It is so strange that I have now reached an age where having a baby remains on my mind so often. I can’t remember ever not planning to have children. I had baby dolls, teddy bears, and puppies who were my surrogate children. My favorite toys were my Sunshine Fun Family. They were exactly what I wanted and did not have: mom, dad, two cute kids. It's still what I want and sadly do not have.

In college, I was thinking of dates and degrees. A family was for someday. When I married, I really thought that someday was almost here, but my husband said someday was still further away. Then I got pregnant and quickly miscarried. At the time mixed with the sorrow was a relief: we weren’t ready. How many times had he said that? I was still developing my career and after all, we had plenty of time.

Then he left. I was thirty and starting over. Grieving my marriage, I still wasn’t quite frantic yet; after all I still had plenty of time. I hoped that I’d meet someone new and fall madly in love. We’d get married and have a houseful of children (it’s amazing how that number has changed depending on the situation over the years).

It’s been eight years and there’s still no one new. I constantly hear the tick-tock of that loud metaphorical clock. It says I no longer have plenty of time. I find myself constantly researching “options.” I know what I want: a child. What is the best way?

I have found sperm banks and browsed their donor lists. I have contacted an infertility clinic about artificial insemination, such a yucky term. I have read endlessly about adoption.

I am torn. I want a child; I want a husband; I want a family. Of these three, the one I feel the least compelled about and have the least control over is the husband. I do not think I will ever feel complete if I do not have a child to call me “Mama.” The very thought cuts to the very essence of who I am.

I do not know which way to go.

I used to only think about adoption. I knew that there were so many unwanted children in the world. Wouldn't a one-parent home be better than having no parents? I have so much to offer this un-parented child: a safe home, plenty of love and dedication, and my intense desire to parent.

I know that I could love a child not biologically my own, but would I later regret not having the experience? The thoughts circle endlessly around my head.

I could adopt later if I chose, but sadly, there will probably not be a later for a biological child. Now that I am almost out of time, I cannot get the idea out of my head. I want to be pregnant! I desperately want to feel a little person growing inside me. I want to name someone. It’s not really the desire to pass my genetic material forward but to be there from the beginning with someone -- highly unlikely in a single-parent adoption.

Where did all of these thoughts come from? They were hiding somewhere for a while, but they came creeping back as my 38th birthday approached. Now they are constantly with me. I feel so confused and torn. I want both and truly fear having neither.

I try to go on with my life and only share these thoughts and questions with close friends. I get widely divergent advice from these friends. Each has his or her own view of what is right. So I am no further than six months ago. To procreate or not procreate? That is my very personal question, but I still do not have an answer.

Unwed is not the same as Unprepared

The Choice Mom board recently had a discussion about how a CNN article recently described us as "unwed." Some women didn't particularly like the term, since it implies a lack that we don't all feel. Like saying someone is un-blonde, instead of brunette. Some wondered, why not simply call us single, without implying that we're supposed to be something else? Here's one response to the thread from Pamela, 39.


I so agree with the neg. tone of 'unwed.' Funny how technically at the moment I'm a spinster! Single mom, I'm okay with that, but there are so many ways to become a single mom and each road has different social acceptance and different levels of sympathy or in some cases stigmas. I personally prefer to look at it this way:

I was raised being told I could do anything, and though the road was often more challenging as a woman, the road was not blocked (for the most part). The rewards along the way for milestones achieved are still less than my male counterparts, but I'm allowed to walk a road my grandmother was forbidden to travel. I was raised to be independent in thought and action. I was encouraged to follow my dreams and let my spirit guide me. Attending college was not an option -- it was expected, and I was the first woman on both sides of the family to obtain a degree. I am a confident, successful, smart, good-looking woman who by popular belief must by 'broken' in some way as I haven't found a man to marry.

No, I'm not broken, I'm not wounded, I'm not needy. I am the product of a generation of women who were raised believing the world was their oyster. A generation of independent, confident women that society shaped and formed, while forgetting that the boys they were raising alongside these amazing smart and talented girls were not being raised much differently than their fathers -- and when these boys became men and they looked for their mates, they saw women who did not fit the qualities they were programmed to look for in a wife. They saw qualities to pass over.

So am I broken or is it that lens in which men view me that has been curved incorrectly, such that the beauty of an independent woman is not seen? Society shaped me, encouraged career development and beliefs that I could have it all -- career and family. Yet when I achieve career, and family is nowhere to be found, and I pore as much effort into finding a man as I did into my career, I'm still left empty handed. Yet, I view the lack of a man as yet another obstacle in the long journey of my life and begin to develop a work-around. Donor insemination to the rescue, something that's been kept in the closet for unfortunate couples having issues with fertility is now my saving grace.

I like thinking of myself as going down the road towards being an independent mom, because I do not plan to be dependent on social assistance. Save it for the single, UNwed mothers who are UNemployed/UNderemployed and UNable to provide for their children/self and Dependent on others for their needs.

I may be single and thus unwed as I approach motherhood, but I am also independent and will be an independent mom!

In hindsight, what would you do differently?

A 40-year-old woman, new to the Choice Mom discussion board, said it was time for her to make a conscious decision about her future instead of letting nature decide. She had read "Choosing Single Motherhood," taken the Clomid challenge, and was still wrestling with whether she could possibly raise a baby on her own. She asked: "For all of you who have been through the Thinking stage already, what are the top three things you wish you would have known or done while you were in your decision-making process?"

Many of the answers were the same, which is worth pointing out here:

Said one woman: "I wish I would have started SOONER! I was stuck in my ambivalence phase for so long that I let YEARS go by. Precious, precious years that could have resulted in an easier time getting pregnant. Now I am 42 and on my second IVF cycle....waiting to see what will happen. So yeah, SOONER. For example, back in May I went to my clinic and made my decision to try but I didn't actually do the first cycle until November. I should have done it right away. And more specifically, I wish I'd tried getting pregnant say 3 years ago when my eggs were probably a lot more viable. So, my advice is: DO IT NOW!"

Replied Cathi: 1) I wish I would have gotten healthier (lost weight, been in better shape, made better food choices) before conceiving. 2) I wish I would have saved more money. I did pretty well at paying off student loans and my car, but I still blew a lot, especially on setting up the nursery. I should have used Craigslist more for baby stuff, and not bought 1/10 of the baby clothes I did in my excitement! 3) I wish I'd relaxed and enjoyed the pregnancy more. I had a lot of stress going on with my living situation at the time (I moved when I was 7 1/2 months pregnant), and spent a lot of nights in the tub sobbing with worry and maybe a little self-pity. I wish I could've been more grateful that I was healthy and expecting a baby instead of stressed about money and caregivers and my boss and not having a partner and where I was going to live!

For me, I didn't wish I'd done it sooner - this was the right time for me, and I was at the right place in my life with work and family etc.

Said Jeanne: "I will be 41 this week and started this whole process a few days before I turned 40. I've had 4 IUI's with AD, resulting in one chemical pregnancy and one pregnancy that miscarried at 12 weeks. I wish I had: started earlier; not worried so much about choosing the "perfect" donor; and not worried about what others might think or say. The things that seemed so important to me at the beginning of the journey really aren't as important anymore. All that matters now is getting and staying pregnant! Good luck on your journey!

Said one 42-year-old: 1) I wish I would have started motherhood earlier. 2) I wish I would have NOT gotten married to Mr. Wrong ‘under the influence’ of the biological clock. (which ended up inflicting custody hell on my son). 3) I wish I were younger and financially better off, so I could have one more child.

Said Denise: 1. I wish I would have NOT married my ex-husband. 2. I wish I would have met my real soulmate several years ago and had kids with him and/or I wish I would have become an SMC years ago. 3. I wish I would have won a lottery.

Said Sharon: I wish I had started ttc when I started thinking - when I was 30. Instead I waited for Mr. Right. Bad decision. Now I'm 36 and wishing I had started a long time ago. I didn't realize how long it would take for me to get pregnant.

Said the Choice Mom of a toddler: I wish I would have started earlier. I wish I would have started T42 earlier. I wish I would have known how little I'd miss my freedom -- I'd been really worried about that, but it's not that big of a deal. I wish I would have had a laundry tub when she was a baby! Honest to god they poop all over everything when they are little.

Speaking from experience...let yourself doubt

submitted by Lily, the Choice Mom of one, at my request....because I think we have plentiful advice and insight that tells us this is a great step to take, and need to also hear from women about why it might not be the right choice for everyone:

When Mikki asked me to write this blog, I thought it would be easy. However, just like the choice I made, it's not at all. I'm not sure how to say what I want to say without appearing hostile, dejected, or down on motherhood. I just really want to make sure that those who are thinking about this choice do their darndest to be honest with themselves.

I always feel a bit obligated to bring up the other side of the coin in discussions with Thinkers and Choice Moms, not because I think I did the wrong thing, but we're under so much pressure to not show any weakness or doubt about what we've done. We can worry that we might give those who don't like what we did ammunition. Or we feel like we have no right to complain because we chose to do this, and to say you have reservations opens us up to "I told you so's" or proof we were wrong somehow.

I openly call what I did "Plan B" and don't pretend to myself or anyone else that I see this as the pinnacle of motherhood. I still think kids are better off in two-parent homes in an ideal world. But as is evident by my choice, I just don't think that ANY two parents are better than just one. There are more screwed up families out there than I can count because of that idea.

I am now the mother to a wonderful little boy. Despite that, I'm still not sure I did the right thing for me. I never ever wanted to do this alone, but felt forced into it by circumstances -- the calculus that I saw at the time was "by holding out for what I really want, I'm very likely to end up with nothing. Let's do something."

I had to go down fighting. I suspect I have a harder time dealing with the choice because I know I still harbor some resentment at the universe, or fate, or whatever, that it came down to this. I understand that I have to let some of the anger go. And, while I'm making a lot of progress, it's not always a linear progression and it can crop up from time to time.

I know I had to give up the dream (possibly for now, possibly forever) of having a "family." I know many Choice Moms -- and other single parents -- consider themselves and a child a family, but in my mind a family involves a companion relationship for me as well.

I'm an only child, which I did not like. And I am rather concerned that my son will have even less of a family than I have (and mine is small), with no aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, etc. I really would have liked him connected to a larger family unit than we've got.

I also wanted to have a real 'grown-up life," with companionship, children, and a different experience than I have as a single person. I've been independent, organized, stable, and together my whole life. I know darn well I don't need anyone to take care of me. But just once in a while I'd like to not be stepping out there alone and taking care of everything.

So for all of you Thinkers, be mindful of being realistic about what you really want.

I knew I didn't want to do this alone, but I rationalized it away. My son is wonderful, but I was right that he alone doesn't fill the entire void. The void seems even deeper when you're sleep-deprived and realize there's no change on the horizon for years.

I know some single parents do find a way to meet people and date, but I don't think I will be one of them. If I couldn't do a good job of it when I didn't have a child, it's unlikely that I'll figure it out anytime soon. For me, "hard" I can do, no problem. Things need to be done, a mother needs to be responsible -- that's like falling off a log. You just do it.

It's "lonely" that gets me. The Boy is great, but if I spend one more freezing weekend in this house, with no one to talk to, nowhere to go, and no visitors, I'm selling him to the circus.

Also Thinkers -- if your communities are small and you don't have a lot of people in your life now, don't count on having a child changing it, or having people magically appear to help you out. You will be as a mother the same person you've always been, just with a child. Make sure you really are okay with that. If you're not someone who has 'transformative experiences,' don't expect this one will automatically do the trick. It may, but it may not.

I'm the person I always was, living the life I always led, just with a child. It's not a bad life by any means. But you need to be sure that you are okay if your journey ends with your same life, with the addition of a child.

Someone asked me if I would do this again. I still don't know. I get a little nervous about answering that question because I don't ever want my son to feel that I resent him, don't want him, don't love him, or any of that. That's simply not true.

On many levels, I think he's the one who's gotten the raw deal. He's the best little boy in the world (no, really :-). We're going to be just fine, and most likely better off than many around us.

I wrote my son a letter before he was born, and one thing I put in it was to reassure him that he was one of the last things left that I wanted to do. I'd traveled, had exciting jobs, lived abroad, etc. I could continue to do all those things again, but on many levels he was the last great uncharted adventure.

If that's not where you are when you make this choice, you have to figure out whether not doing those other things will eat at you.

I'm not trying to discourage anyone. I just want Thinkers to realize there's nothing wrong with you if you can't quite tell yourself that this is the best way to have children, or if you feel that this is Plan B.

It's okay to be angry -- although if all you have is anger, you may not be ready.

Don't apologize or get defensive if you make this choice. But it's also okay to not go out and evangelize Choice Motherhood either.

At the end of the day, it's no one's decision but yours.

3 strong podcasts

These three strong Choice Chat podcasts are great for women who are thinking about whether they can logistically and emotionally handle single parenthood:

Fri, 16 January 2009
Choice Mom Tricks: Part 2
Recorded at a San Francisco Bay Area networking event for Choice Moms, this show features the experience of Choice Moms founder Mikki Morrissette, the humor of author Mary Pols ("Accidentally on Purpose") and the insight of Choice Mom and therapist Felicia Shamma, as well as audience members, to discuss our fears and coping strategies.

A focus of the discussion was about finding partners in the journey -- friends, male role models, colleagues -- and the strengths, and weaknesses, we find in ourselves after we become mothers.

This show was sponsored by Pacific Fertility Center, which co-sponsored the networking event.

Tue, 6 January 2009
Choice Chat with Jennifer: support network in action
This episode features Jennifer, 8 months pregnant, who was part of a Choice Moms conversation circle that included six women talking about how we got to this stage of our journey, concerns we have for our children, how men play a role in our lives, and more.

It is a great example of the kinds of honest discussions we can and do have with each other, the thought that goes behind our decisions, and the plans we make for building the best world we can for our children.

The Choice Mom community is vast and varied and worldwide, and as this podcast allows us to hear, when we consciously reach out to each other we can be our own best support network.

This podcast was sponsored by California Cryobank, which sponsored a CD about "Answering the Daddy Question" that came out of this roundtable discussion.

Mon, 22 December 2008
Choice Mom Tricks: Part 1
In this show, recorded at a New York City networking event for Choice Moms, authors Mikki Morrissette and Louise Sloan talk about their Choice Mom journeys. What has been harder than we expected? What has been easier? What advice do we have for other single moms? What have we learned from interviewing Choice Moms and from our own personal experiences?

It also includes insight from mental health therapists Patricia Mendell and Joann Paley Galst about the rights to complain, and to ask for support.

This show was sponsored by California Cryobank, which was the gold sponsor of the New York City workshop.

Dealing with the ANGER

A woman posted on the Choice Mom discussion board that she wanted to "scream at the universe 'why me?' And I want to scream at society that this wasn't my first choice, that I played by the rules too. I want to travel back in time and tell my younger self that the rules change when you reach your thirties."

Her strong post of strong emotions struck a nerve with many women. Here's how Nataniella replied:

I could have written every one of these words, if I were half as articulate as you. Yes, yes, YES! I feel so ripped off and angry! I write about it, I talk to everyone who will listen (and some who won't), my therapist is on speed dial for the times a rush of emotion overtakes me and I have to scream it out.

And, yet, at the end of the day (or the scream-fest, or the crying jag), here I am. Dealing with what life has dealt me.

I read a lot of stories/novels/blogs from women who have fertility problems, or lost a partner, or other tragic life events in some way....it helps me to feel less alone and see that people, even once they've had the dream come true of a loving partner, marriage (and yes, the gawd-d*#d celebration with a big white dress and all that), sometimes sh!t happens and then in some other way life isn't what they asked for.

I try not to think about which dream I'd rather have NOT come true: my health, my romantic love, my work, etc. I have fulfilling, potentially lucrative work I find meaningful, which makes the world a better place, so I do remember once in a while to feel grateful for that.

So, no way over this except through it, I realize. I, too, long for the AUTHENTIC reframing, shifting of expectations, rather than just putting on a brave face and sallying forth. I guess I do a bit of both.

And somehow, I am starting to nudge myself (kicking and screaming) into a very slightly different place. A recent trip to my dad's sun-drenched retirement home had me imagining coming with baby in tow, no man, and what that might be like. Tentative discussions with dad and stepmom were supportive, even excited, for my rough plans. Again, trying to remember gratitude.

Tiring, though, isn't it?