Dating a woman with a baby busdating ru
They’d come to every doctor appointment and had even gone so far as to help me choose my donor, though I was technically having a baby alone—I would be a single mom by choice. Starving already, I was off to enjoy a triumphant falafel. The first thing every guy wanted to know about was my relationship with the baby daddy. I found myself endlessly explaining my choices to guys I didn’t even want to go out with anymore. He called me sneaky for not disclosing my pregnancy right away.
Hands trembling, I called my parents and sister, who cried with joy. I decided that after a couple of minutes of banter, I’d tell them I was expecting. This is where I learned something crucial about life: rejection is best served with ice cream.
He came across as sophisticated and neurotic—very New Yorky. It turned out that the only thing Aaron loved more than Shakespeare was Shake Shack, and the only thing I loved more than flirting was french fries.
We were a sexless match made in high-cholesterol heaven, until I got a little grossed out by his gluttony (only one of us was entitled to such a rapidly growing belly.)I also reconnected with an old friend, Ryan, who now had kids (and an ex) of his own.
I ended my yogi interview with as much Zen as possible, which was not much, then ran into the street, screaming. I didn’t add “pregnant” to my profile, because taken out of context it does raise a lot of questions (even I can admit that), and I didn’t want a guy creating the wrong narrative for me.
After one sperm donor, two intrauterine inseminations and thousands of dollars paid to the NYU Fertility Center, I was pregnant. Maybe I’d meet a single father or a modern romantic like me. One night I logged on to Tinder, not for the first time (British Marcus had come and gone—he was cute but little else).
Not only would I be having a newborn in several months, but I couldn’t even meet up for a proper drink.
The nurses called her Nicole Kidman.)Motherhood, it turned out, came pretty naturally to me.
One of the many reasons that I initially felt this was the right decision for me was that I wanted to relax a little when it came to the pursuit of romance.
Also, even though I’d gotten pregnant on my own terms, I didn’t want to close the door on love.
I was in the middle of interviewing a popular yoga teacher for a magazine story when I saw my phone light up. Still, what he described as his “sense of betrayal” struck me as extreme.
Without much time to explain, I asked the yogi to hold my hand. My mother reminded me, as she always does, that there’s a halo above me. When I explained that I used a sperm donor, they were comforted but confused. And to be fair, I’d waited until about 20 minutes in, because our banter seemed so fluid and fun.