I am 41, eight months pregnant with my first child and in the final stages of preparation. If by final preparation you mean: cot not bought, bag not packed, still juggling working full-time with trying to buy a house. Despite the ever-expanding bump straining the fabric of my dress, it’s hard to believe it’s real after so much disappointment and trauma.
I honestly gave up believing I would be here. After years of failed dating and toying with the idea of sperm banks I was coming to terms with a child-free life. But then Eddie agreed to have a child with me: Eddie, my gay best friend.
‘We’d never talked about children together’
While being single isn’t exactly a choice, it’s something I’ve learned to embrace. I’ve lived,
