Don’t Hold Out & Put All Your Eggs On One Bastard

Chefkicking egg basket graphic

I wrote this piece to kind of sum up how I got myself exactly where I am.  Of course I couldn’t squeeze it all in but in the end I really did find a way that not only worked for me but was right.  I’m not sure how things will look in coming years but what I do know is I am happy.  My boy is happy and I am so very grateful to the man who made motherhood my reality.  Yes I would have loved to have gauged some past loves eyeballs out but I decided to sit in my shit instead.  In the end it was worth it.

I hope you enjoy my words x

I didn’t want to resort to a sperm donor I met on Facebook to father my child. But I did. In my defence, there were a number of blocks during my prime baby-making years.  And didn’t I receive any ‘danger, Will Robinson’ warning signs at 35 letting me know that I was being taken hostage by Big Fertility and their ‘one stop shop’ socially infertile marketing monster.

Like many ambitious young women starting out, I assumed in order to make it in a career that took me on the road, kids could not be part of the picture. This notion was reinforced in my workplace and by the competitive nature of the media biz. While kiddies weren’t part of my early career climbing years, by the time I hit my 30’s thoughts of procreating started creeping in.

By then, I’d racked up a bunch of brief partnerships and one devastatingly massive relationship burn from a man who I considered to be an eternal flame. He was the closest I’d ever come to this perfect mythical man beast referred to as ‘The One’.

It took nearly a year to purge him from my cells and heal the heartbreak. I slowly started to rebuild my confidence and trust over the years, finally meeting another real potential suitor. During an intimate embrace one wonderful night he blurted out, “You’ll make a wonderful wife to someone one day”

This was the harsh wake-up call I needed. I was officially middle-aged and if I stayed with him I would be wasting even more precious time when what I really wanted was to find a husband and have a family.

I dusted off that disaster pretty darn fast and jumped into the arms of another who I decided would be my Final One regardless of how we ultimately grooved together.  No surprise we didn’t make it to forever, or even to the lucky seven years mark before the itch set in.

Staring 40 in the face, singledom and the reality of never having my 2.3 kids and white picket fence, I wondered how the heck I got myself here and how I could swiftly change what was unfolding before me.

I started dating purely with baby-making in mind. I honed-in on the walking sperm specimens in my social circles, pounced on my ex for a happy ending on my terms, and opted for my most promising fallback plan – I hit-up the trusty fertility clinic for IUI’s (intrauterine insemination). When all of the IUI’s failed, my next option was IVF but it didn’t feel right so I turned to the internet in a last bid to source swimmers.

It was a Triple O call as I was ‘Out Of Options’.

If only I got the motherhood memo sooner…a pre-baby kick signalling that this was my eggs ‘ride or die’ time.

Luckily, I snagged a fella in Victoria who was moonlighting as a Known Donor.  He contacted me in response to my ‘Desperately Seeking Semen’ ad on Facebook and literally rose to the occasion. He was willing to assist me in my quest for solo motherhood and the following year at 42 I gave birth to a gorgeous baby boy.

As a woman who absolutely loves solo motherhood, I think my situation would have been vastly different if I spent time working on myself before starting a family.

When I look back, I spent a good chunk of time in high school not loving myself and I don’t know why.  Had I processed my trauma and emotional issues early on, it’s very likely I would have attracted very different humans into my orbit. Had I just done the work then instead of seeking out partners to help complete me, I know I would have had different outcomes.  If there was a place to pounce out of high school to unpack all of our emotional baggage and process it in order to move forward, it would provide us all with a better way to navigate our relationships.

I certainly know I’d have a different story to share today having gone through that kind of “root camp”.

Throughout my years of dating, and now being privileged to experience parenthood, I’ve learned that love, relationships, marriage and fertility clinics won’t guarantee you a baby.

The exhausting search for ‘The One’ will have you marching to the frantic beat of the bio-clock well into your forties and push you into a distressed state of spin when he doesn’t show up or stay.

The pain and risk of missing your moment to have a family is far too great later in life and you could be pushed into making the wrong decision because you’re so focussed on yourself, not the child’s bigger picture. I am well aware that my little guy and I are our own unit but we are very much part of a larger tribe and I’ll be ensuring he gets the entire lay of the land.

Ultimately, he is not your block or bridge to a baby, Ladies.  You are!  You’ve got all the eggs in your basket.  So you do you first while you have all those precious primed eggs. Then use ‘em before you lose ‘em.

Hayley is the author of Desperately Seeking Semen, founder of Kbuti Group, where she assists people who are figuring out their path to parenthood.

You can read the story here on the SBS website

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