Motherhood: A Different Path

“I’m thinking about freezing my eggs,” our oldest niece told us a couple of years ago. Her biological clock was ticking louder and louder and louder, and with no “significant other” on the horizon, she faced a dilemma that many women face — diminishing fertility.

Fertility generally starts to slowly decline when a woman is in her early 30s, and after the age of 35, the decline accelerates. By age 40, the chance of getting pregnant in any monthly cycle is a mere 5%.

Our niece knew this. She’s always wanted children, and so in her mid thirties, and without a boyfriend or spouse, she began to weigh her options, and luckily, she had options. She’s exceptionally accomplished — a BS in Chemistry from Georgia Southern, a PhD in Biochemistry from Georgia Tech, an MBA from the University of Alabama, and a thriving career in the STEM Education field. She owns her home in Alabama and has built an independent, successful life for herself.

A few weeks after the conversation about freezing her eggs, she told us that she had decided to move forward with motherhood — by herself. She’d consulted with a doctor about pregnancy options using donor sperm from a sperm bank. What followed was a process much like online shopping. She would send us screenshots of potential donors from Fairfax Cryobank, showing us the men’s photos, physical characteristics, education, ethnicity, hobbies, and responses to questions. “What do you think of this one?” she’d ask in her text messages.

After careful consideration, she selected a donor and purchased a vial of his very expensive sperm. Her doctor performed intrauterine insemination (IUI), a procedure where sperm is placed directly into the uterus via something sort of like a turkey baster.

The first attempts were unsuccessful, each failure bringing heartbreak, more expense, and the emotional toll of starting all over again. But persistence paid off, and today, she’s very pregnant with a baby boy due in June.

She visited us last weekend, and her excitement mirrors that of any expectant mother — perhaps even more so. She’s paying meticulous attention to her nutrition, preparing the nursery, reading everything about childcare she can find, connecting with other mothers, and even reading bedtime stories to her unborn son. She and I spent 45 minutes at the Carter’s Outlet Store holding up tiny outfits exclaiming, “Oh look how cute this one is!” over each impossibly small pair of overalls, miniature sweaters and beanies.

Today, our family is rallying around her. Many of us are organizing shifts for when the baby arrives, knowing she’ll need support and occasional relief. She’s under no illusions — she understands raising a child alone will be incredibly challenging. But as she points out, many women and men raise children by themselves, some by choice and others due to tragic or difficult circumstances. She isn’t discounting the importance of fathers; she simply doesn’t want to forfeit motherhood because she hasn’t found a life partner — a Mr. Right — yet.

And so her path to motherhood is a bit unorthodox, though certainly not unprecedented. As someone who couldn’t have children myself, I deeply admire her determination. She will love this child with her whole heart, and we’ll be there every step of the way, because that’s what families do — we surround each other with love and support.

I should acknowledge that not everyone in our family has been sup- continued from page

portive of her decision. I understand their reservations, but the reality is a simple one: a baby is coming — time to get onboard. This child — our little June Bug — will be genetically 50% our niece, and some of us already love him fiercely. Our niece is ready for this grand challenge — physically, emotionally and financially.

The path to having a family isn’t always a traditional one or a simple one. Perhaps we could all be a little kinder to women navigating these complex waters, making difficult choices to create the families they’ve always dreamed of. Some roads to motherhood may look a little different, but they lead to the same destination: a child who is deeply wanted and profoundly loved.