Last weekend I found myself on the website for California Cryobank, the largest sperm bank in the US. I managed to get there after ever so casually perusing the websites of some fertility centers in the city, centers I found to have resources conveniently devoted specifically to single women wanting to start a family. It wasn’t until I was viewing donors 6′ or taller with a Bachelor’s degree or higher before I froze mid-click, slammed my laptop shut, and revoked my own internet privileges for the rest of the afternoon.
When I spiral, I spiral long and hard. Did you know that there’s only one public school with a pre-k option that’s rated 10/10 in Brooklyn? And did you know that a one bedroom apartment in that neighborhood is currently renting for somewhere in the range of $1900 to $2400? I know this now. I also know there are a ton of superbly rated public schools in Manhattan, but that same price range would put me in the market for a only studio or maybe a junior one bedroom if I’m lucky. I never used to picture myself co-sleeping with my child, but I picture that now.
I know that with my current salary, I’d be able to afford maybe 15ish hours of childcare a week at the NYC minimum wage OR I could continue saving for retirement OR I could start saving for my child’s education. I don’t really know how much daycare costs because none of the websites for the centers that don’t look utterly terrifying have clearly displayed pricing and I feel like calling for info at this stage of total non-pregnancy would maybe be a touch too much. I also feel like the fact that pricing isn’t easily accessible means I won’t be able to afford it, like the time I was in a fancy jewelry store in the Bellagio with my mom and she whispered, “Places like this don’t use price tags because if you have to ask how much it is, you can’t afford it.”
I’ve worked out a potential fantasy work schedule that involves a delicate balance of part-time childcare, working remotely, and a pack & play underneath my desk. Alternatively, I could also move home and take advantage of cheaper rent and family childcare, but then I’d need a car and a new job. And when should I make that move? Despite the legal ramifications of hiring discrimination, it’s been well documented that employers aren’t really champing at the bit to bring pregnant women on board, so it would very much need to be a Before or After sort of thing. Before would mean finding a new gynecologist and establishing a new career, hopefully one that comes with paid maternity leave. After would mean the risk of being unemployed for a while for the whole moving across the country and giving birth to a human thing.
This sounds like a lot, right? Like I maybe need to slow my roll a bit? You’re not wrong, I guess. I was asked recently why I don’t put this kind of effort into finding a partner and I’ll admit the question took me by surprise. But I mean, isn’t the idea that you’re NOT supposed to put effort into it? If you’re single, you’ve heard it before, too…”It’ll happen when you least expect it. You’ll find someone when you stop looking.” Blah blah blah.
But honestly, I think it boils down to me not feeling like finding a partner is at all within my control. I can literally buy sperm on a website and make an appointment and pay to have this sperm put inside of me. It’s clinical. It’s science. As much as I’d rather get pregnant for free the fun old fashioned way, love is decidedly less clinical than an appointment with my gynecologist. I have yet to work out a scientific approach to avoid getting ghosted.
Over the past several years of being single and dating, I do feel like I’ve at least put in some work to narrow the pool. I’ve made an effort to be clearer about what I’m looking for and I’ve decided to waste less time on what are very clearly casual encounters. So like…what else is there to do?
While I’m sharply aware that I am the only common denominator in my unsuccessful romantic exploits and I believe there is always room for ongoing personal development, I don’t really think I have any glaring personality flaws I should be focusing on course correcting. (I realize this sounds a bit like an open invitation to tell me otherwise, and please, if you’re keeping a list, don’t be shy. Send it over! Let’s fix me.) And okay, I GUESS if I want to claim I’m making the bare minimum effort to avoid the getting pregnant solo thing, I’ll have to re-download the dating apps I’ve been living without for the past couple of months. But dude. They suck so hard. Everyone knows the apps suck so hard.
No one who tells me it’s all going to work out is single. People in love usually forget all about what it was like before they found someone who wasn’t afraid of their morning breath. Not all of us are comfortable sitting in empty possibility. I like a list. I like a plan. I’m going to download the apps again. I’m going to go on more dates with strangers. I’m going to be warm and open and I promise to not bring up getting pregnant on the first date.
I’m just also going to keep saving up to buy some premium, high quality sperm. Super tall, super smart sperm.
She Always Has Shit to Say 