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.
(She crossed her legs and wore a cashmere beret at 2 days old.
The nurses called her Nicole Kidman.)Motherhood, it turned out, came pretty naturally to me.
I’d look at Hazel—especially in her innocent deep sleep—and it just felt like the sweetest prayer.
Among the million visitors expected to flock to Oregon for a rare solar eclipse at the end of the month, is an unnamed man looking for a night of passion.
I was sleep-deprived but propped up by a continual swell of happy hormones. We took long, contemplative walks and got lattes every morning.
And when it came to help, I counted myself extremely lucky: my family pitched in and worked overtime, easing the transition in ways that a hundred husbands couldn’t, from daily home-cooked meals to on-demand babysitting. I even learned to use her as a kettlebell when working out at home (she giggled the whole time.)Of course, there was plenty of hard stuff, too.
And after a while, I got it: The majority of them were looking for someone to start a clean future with, and I came with strings attached.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.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.