A couple of people have said to me that I should start a blog. Apparently I have posted an interesting thing or two. My issue with blogging is that writing doesn't come naturally to me. My verbal SATs were about 200 points lower than my math. I do taxes, I love numbers, I do NOT love grammar, spelling, and the like. The blog that I DID start, is pretty much sitting inactive.
However, it would be nice to write shorts about things that cross my mind during the day. I have a friend who leaves me 5 messages at a time rambling about her thoughts, and then I return the favor and do the same. Maybe she doesn't have to be my only audience. I've been told more than once that my life as a single-mother-by-choice is not all that common so could maybe provide some good material.
Alrighty then, what the hell !
So, maybe a good place to start is to discuss why the hell I had a kid by myself. In my 20s, I had a "work husband", and we agreed that if we were both 30 and unmarried, we'd get married to each other. When we hit 30, we were like umm, no friggin way. So I figured I'd never get married and enjoy all the perks that go along with that. Freedom, more money, no hassles. I started to wonder why people get married and have kids, it didn't make sense to me, but I'm sure I was just rationalizing, making sure I didn't desire something I couldn't have. Then one day at age 34, I met someone who will remain nameless (we are Facebook friends and although we are good now, I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate being the subject of my blogging). All of a sudden, the clouds parted and the whole idea of marriage and kids made sense. It probably made too much sense because I believe I scared the shit out of this person with my new outlook on life. When that relationship fell apart, I decided I was so fed up with men and the difficulties I seem to have making a functional relationship work. I don't blame all men, don't get me wrong. I take responsibility for the fact that I am perpetually single (stay tuned for future blog on this subject).
After the end of this relationship I was determined to become a mother. For whatever reason, I wanted it and nothing was going to stop me. Concerned that I was reacting to the breakup, I waited through one more busy tax season, to see if the reality check of my demanding work schedule would scare me away from this crazy idea. After the tax season was over, I still wanted it. I started reaching out to men I knew who may want to be a father, a known donor, so to speak. Although there were a few interested parties, they flaked out. This flaking out made me worry that they'd flake out in some important way in the future, so I decided to go it alone. Completely alone. Using a donor that would never meet his child. Sound selfish? Not if you're confident enough to know that you can provide everything to your child that two parents can. Well, maybe not everything, but I was sure I could provide better parenting and happiness than many traditional families. So began that journey.
To be continued, as I have pretty much reached my writing tolerance threshold.
