I knew the numbers were going up, but when I read that the amount of women choosing to have babies alone through IVF has tripled over the last decade, I was beside myself with joy.
Not only did it validate my own decision to start a family via IVF as a single parent, I also felt huge relief on behalf of my now eight-month-old daughter. Like all parents, I have so many fears and worries, but the thought of her having to navigate other people’s opinions of her “different” family in the future is one that occasionally kept me awake at night. So, to know that she is now part of an ever-growing group of children with an unusual but not so uncommon origin story makes me so happy.
I first considered solo parenthood way back in 2015 after a break up, but I was put off by the search for the donor dad sperm. There seemed to be so many options, and to be honest, looking back now I see that I didn’t really know what or who I was looking for. Plus, I was 33 at the time, and didn’t feel it was a decision I needed to make right there and then.
Fast forward to 2021. A combination of Covid and its impact on my social life, learning more about the IVF process through a friend who was on her own journey with her partner, and being on the cusp of turning 40 led me to reconsider my decision.
I decided to have another look at the donor sites, and this time around, I didn’t find it so overwhelming. I was looking at potential future baby daddies and it felt exciting, not daunting. That same day, I booked in for a fertility test, and celebrated my decision with margaritas with a dear pal. Although the test showed there were no obvious issues with my fertility, I was advised to get started as soon as possible due to my age, and by November of that year, I had started fertility treatment.
Financially, the choice to do IVF alone wasn't easy. I had to do a massive lifestyle shift in order to budget for the treatment, on top of putting money aside to cover me should I be lucky enough to find myself on maternity leave, and beyond that, to pay for childcare when I ultimately returned to work. Beyond the practical aspects, trying to conceive through IVF was gruelling, both emotionally and physically, and definitely not quick, but by August 2023, after multiple procedures, I was pregnant.
There were a couple of scares. But otherwise, the only issues I experienced during pregnancy were the need to wee every 15 minutes, and a severe lack of sleep towards the end. I gave birth to my daughter by elective C-section in March this year, with my best friend as my birthing partner, and my mum waiting anxiously for us in the recovery suite.
I moved in with my mum just before getting pregnant, so I have been incredibly lucky to have her helping out day to day, but I started my fertility journey in a small London flat, mentally preparing to tackle parenthood on my own. Knowing what I know now, I think it’s completely doable if you live alone. You just need to be open to asking for help from friends and family, and – if finances allow – I’d recommend you consider investing in a cleaner and a Gousto-style food delivery service for the first few months.
The thing that nobody can help you with is the mental load. The buck stops with you. All the decisions, all the planning. But, as many parents with partners have pointed out to me: this isn’t always a bad thing. You know what needs to be done, who’s going to be doing it (spoiler alert: it’s you), and when.
One of my biggest worries in the run up to giving birth was how I would cope with the nights. But I have done every night shift since my daughter was born, and I have survived so far. I have, however, recently sought the help of a sleep guru, as her sleep – and in turn, mine – could do with some adjusting.
If you’re even vaguely interested in having kids, my main piece of advice is to start researching and exploring your options, and to think about booking in that fertility test. You’re not committing yourself to having a baby, you’re just giving yourself all of the information you might need in order to take the next step, should you choose to.
The arrival of my daughter has been so joyful. Yes, I get all the tough parts, but I also get all of the extremely lovely parts. The moments that absolutely have me in bits are when she is so engrossed in playing that she literally doesn’t notice me staring at her, transfixed. Sometimes, very early in the morning, when she’s decided it’s time to wake up, I can sit her up in my bed with a book, and she’ll just amuse herself, her adorably oversized baby head wobbling about. I miss her when she has a long nap, or if my mum takes her out for a little adventure to the shops. But the look of pure joy on her face when she sees me again gives me a feeling that should be prescribed on the NHS. It is a daily reminder that I actually did it; I am actually a mum.
My hope? That the number of women embarking on solo parenthood quadruples in the decades to come, and that if my daughter decides to start a family on her own in the future, it’s a bog standard, run of the mill, almost boring option.
