For many women, having a baby is the third point on their life checklist. First, you chase your dream job, next you settle into a loving relationship, then you think about having children. But, for me, things didn’t happen quite that way. I’d got to my early 30s with a good job and a lovely home – and no sign of a man. All I wanted was a baby, but how could I become a mum on my own?
Even as a little girl, I’d pictured myself as a mother, cradling my toy dolls like an adoring parent. As I got older, I loved kids and at 21, I got the job of my dreams, as a nursery nurse. It might have been hectic and exhausting, but being around children all day filled me with joy.
I’d always thought I’d be pregnant in my early 20s but, at 25, I started to feel like life was passing me by. I had a lovely flat, a job I loved and busy weekends spent with friends and family. I didn’t mind being single, my life felt full, yet I craved holding my own baby in my arms.
So I signed up for a dating app and, over the next couple of years, I met perfectly nice men, but just never found the spark I was looking for. By the time I was 30, I’d given up on dating and was no closer to finding a partner. Panic was starting to set in, as I knew it would be harder to conceive the older I got. Then when lockdown hit in 2020, the nursery closed and I used the free time I had to research fertility treatments. For a while, I’d been thinking about using a sperm donor to conceive.
It wasn’t the route I ever imagined taking to have a baby, but being a mum meant far more to me than a relationship. I was shocked to discover, though, that IVF would set me back between £15k and £30k. I’m not from a rich family and my wage from the nursery wasn’t huge, I simply couldn’t afford it. I had a bit in savings, but nowhere near enough.
Then I read about IUI – intrauterine insemination. It involved placing sperm directly into the uterus, near the fallopian tube, to increase the chances of conceiving. At £3,000, it was much cheaper than IVF and with a bit more saving, I could afford it.
Then in September 2020, I celebrated my 32nd birthday and my mum Bronwyn, then 62, and stepdad David, 72, came over with chocolate cake – and to discuss some unexpected news. I’d inherited £1,000 from my grandma, who’d passed away earlier that year. It wasn’t a life-changing sum, but instantly I knew how I wanted to spend it.
Nervously, I told my parents about the IUI treatment, expecting them to dismiss the idea as ‘ridiculous’ and try to talk me out of it. Instead, they smiled and told me they’d support whatever I wanted to do.
Then a few months later, my mum rang with an idea. She’d found out about egg sharing.
Just four months later, in January 2021, I had my first round of IUI. After that failed, I went ahead with a second round a month later. When the pregnancy test showed up negative once again, I was distraught. Perhaps naively, I’d not really prepared myself for it failing and I had to take some time off work and see a counsellor. I was overwhelmed with the thought that this wasn’t going to happen for me. I had no more money and couldn’t face waiting for Mr Right, who might never show.
Then a few months later, my mum rang with an idea. She’d found out about egg sharing. It involved donating half of your eggs to another patient and then you would receive a free round of IVF yourself. Immediately, I knew I wanted to do it. The chances of conceiving would be higher with IVF, plus I’d be helping someone else have their own baby.
I did worry about how I'd feel if my eggs gave another woman a baby while my own IVF failed, but I tried to focus on a positive outcome for us both.
In September 2021, 17 of my eggs were harvested. Nine I kept and the other eight were passed on to someone else. A month on, I had my first round of IVF, using sperm I’d chosen from a list of profiles. Just like with online dating, I’d spent an evening trawling through profiles – only this time, not for a date, but for a sperm donor. The man I chose was 6ft tall with brown hair and blue eyes – someone that I thought I’d likely find attractive.
Two weeks later, it was time for a pregnancy test. I woke up at 5am, full of nerves. But as I sat in the bathroom waiting for the test result, I was ecstatic when it showed a strong second line – something I’d never witnessed before.
When the sonographer confirmed I was having my much longed-for little girl, I cried with happiness.
At 5.30am I rang my mum, waking her up with the news and as we cried and squealed together, I had never felt so happy. As my pregnancy progressed, I loved seeing my bump grow. At 20 weeks, my best friend Sarah, then 33, came with me for my scan. I’d always pictured having a little girl so, to avoid disappointment, I’d been forcing myself to imagine a little boy, even thinking of boys’ names and I bought some boys’ clothes.
But when the sonographer confirmed I was having my much longed-for little girl, I cried with happiness.
My daughter Esme was born on the 15 July 2022 by caesarean, weighing 7lb 7oz. That moment I held her for the first time is one I’ll cherish forever. All those years of worry, fear and panic that I’d never be a mum disappeared and in its place was an overwhelming rush of love.
Even at home, as I juggled night feeds alone and sleep deprivation crept in, I felt nothing but gratitude, just so thankful that I finally had my baby. Besides, Esme was just perfect – sleeping through the night from six weeks old and always so happy and content. She’s two now and is a feisty, sassy little girl with beautiful curls and blue eyes.
I will always be open and honest with Esme about her conception. However, people are often curious about how she will cope without knowing her father. The truth is that she is surrounded by an abundance of love and that’s all that really matters.
Recently, I discovered that one of my eggs helped another woman have a baby – a little boy – which I am thrilled to hear. I won’t lie, it does feel a bit strange to think there’s another child out there who’s biologically mine – a brother to Esme – but he doesn’t belong to me and I know that he has parents who love him.
I still have four more frozen embryos at the clinic, but I already feel so blessed and grateful to have Esme. Being her mum is everything I’d ever wished for – and more.
