The Questions That Helped Me Say Yes
Deciding to become a single mom by choice is deeply personal—equal parts terrifying and thrilling. It’s a decision that demands courage, reflection, and a hefty dose of faith in yourself. I knew this wasn’t a choice to make lightly, so I took a long, honest look at the questions that would shape my journey into motherhood. Here’s what I asked myself—and what ultimately helped me move forward.
Did I Really Want to Be a Mom?
The short answer: absolutely. The longer answer? I’ve always known that I wanted to be a mom. I didn’t see motherhood as a box to check or a timeline to hit—I saw it as a calling. It wasn’t about waiting for the “right partner” or the “perfect moment.” It was about honoring a deep desire to raise, love, and shape tiny humans into kind, curious people. Studies show that intrinsic motivation—like a deep desire to nurture—often leads to greater resilience and satisfaction in parenting (Deci & Ryan, 2000). That research rang true for me.
Was It Possible to Do It On My Own?
Emotionally? Logistically? Yes, it would be hard—but not impossible. I began reading stories from other single moms by choice, especially in Facebook groups where women openly shared their highs and lows. That digital village became a mirror—I saw my hopes, fears, and practical questions reflected back in their stories. It helped me believe I could do this.
Books like Knock Yourself Up by Louise Sloan offered both humor and reassurance. It’s not a step-by-step manual, but it reminded me I wasn’t alone in choosing this unconventional path (Sloan, 2007). That mattered more than I expected.
Was It Financially Possible?
Raising a child in the U.S. is expensive—no way around it. According to the USDA, the average cost of raising a child from birth to age 18 is over $230,000 (USDA, 2017). So I ran the numbers. I reviewed my income, expenses, insurance, and lifestyle. Could I make some sacrifices? Absolutely. But on paper—and more importantly, in my gut—I knew I could do it. Being a single mom doesn’t mean you have to do everything alone, but it does mean you need a solid plan.
Did I Have Family Support?
This is where things got a little more complicated, but ultimately beautiful. I knew that while my family’s support mattered to me, it wouldn’t be the deciding factor. Still, when I shared my decision, they didn’t hesitate. My dad didn’t exactly want to talk about sperm banks (because, #dads), but once I told him I was pregnant, any awkwardness disappeared. My parents were in. My friends were in. My village showed up—and then some.
As I’ve written before, support systems don’t have to be made of blood relatives. They can be built—through friendships, chosen family, and community. That’s a lesson I keep learning, and one I try to share with other women walking this path.
Kristen’s Takeaway
I’m not someone who’s naturally go-with-the-flow. I like a plan, a backup plan, and ideally a color-coded spreadsheet. But this journey has taught me to embrace uncertainty, to trust my instincts, and to lean on the people who want to see me—and my kids—thrive.
This blog is just my experience. My story is only one of many. Take what you need, leave what you don’t. But if you’re standing on the edge of this decision, wondering if you can do it—know that you’re not alone. You don’t have to have every answer to say yes. You just have to be brave enough to ask the questions.
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