"I'll Decide Next Year": How to Actually Make the Single Mother by Choice Decision

If you've been considering becoming a single mother by choice for a while now — maybe a long while — I want to start by telling you something I wish someone had told me: the fact that you haven't decided yet doesn't mean something is wrong with you.

I'm a licensed therapist, and I'm also a single mother by choice. Before my son was born, I spent years in what I now call the considering stage. I did the research. I read the forums at midnight. I opened the donor website and closed it again. And I said "I'll give it one more year" more times than I'd like to admit.

If that sounds familiar, this post is for you.

Why this decision feels so impossible

When women come to me stuck in the considering stage, they usually think the problem is that they don't have enough information. So they research more. Another podcast, another book, another late-night deep dive into fertility statistics.

But here's what I've learned, both personally and clinically: the considering stage is rarely an information problem. It's an emotional one.

You're not just deciding whether to grow your family. You're deciding whether to let go of the version of your life you've imagined since you were young — the partner, the proposal, the nursery you'd decorate together. Choosing solo motherhood can feel like closing the door on that story, and no spreadsheet of pros and cons can do that emotional work for you.

That's why so many capable, accomplished women — women who make hard decisions at work every single day — find themselves circling this one for years. The decision isn't hard because you're indecisive. It's hard because it's tangled up with grief, fear, and identity.

The question that changes everything

When clients ask me "What should I do?", I usually offer them a different question instead:

"What am I most afraid of?"

Because "What should I do?" just spins. It invites more research, more polling of friends, more waiting for certainty that never comes. But "What am I most afraid of?" gets underneath the spinning. For most women, the honest answers sound like:

• I'm afraid of making the wrong choice.

• I'm afraid I'll regret it — whichever way I decide.

• I'm afraid I can't do this alone.

• I'm afraid that saying yes to this closes the door on a partnership later.

Naming the fear doesn't make it disappear. But you can't work with a fear you haven't named. Once it has a name, it stops being a wall and starts being a starting point — something you can examine, question, and plan around.

Grief belongs in this process

One of the most overlooked parts of the considering stage is grief. Many women feel ashamed of it — as if grieving the partnered path means they don't really want solo motherhood, or as if wanting solo motherhood means they shouldn't be sad about the original plan.

The truth is simpler and kinder: you're allowed to grieve the life you imagined and still want the one in front of you. Both things can live in the same heart. In my experience, the women who give themselves permission to grieve openly move through the decision with far more clarity than those who try to skip that step.

"One more year" — and what it usually means

If you've been telling yourself "one more year" for several years running, it's worth gently asking what that phrase is doing for you. Sometimes it really is patience — waiting for a financial milestone, a fertility consult, a concrete piece of the plan. But often, "one more year" is fear wearing a calendar. It feels responsible while quietly protecting you from having to choose.

Here's a reframe I often share: you don't have to feel ready to decide. Deciding and feeling ready are two different jobs. Most mothers — partnered or solo — will tell you that "ready" never fully arrived. What you're actually working toward in the considering stage isn't readiness. It's clarity.

What actually helps

If you're in the considering stage right now, here are a few places to start:

Give yourself a deadline to decide — not a deadline to be ready. "By my birthday, I'll know my answer" is a kindness, not a pressure. It contains the circling.

Stop polling people. Every "what would you do?" is usually a request for permission. No one else can grant it — and the people you're asking aren't living your timeline.

Name the fears specifically. Write them down. Vague dread is unmanageable; named fears can be examined one at a time.

Let grief have a seat. Cry about the plan that didn't happen. Then take the next step anyway. Both can happen in the same week — I speak from experience.

Get real support. This decision is too big to carry alone in your own head. Whether that's therapy, a support group of women in the same stage, or both, the considering stage goes very differently when you're not the only voice in the room.

You don't have to figure this out alone

I work with women in the considering stage every week — in individual therapy and in my small-group program, Considering Single Motherhood on Your Own, for women who are exploring this path but haven't decided yet. I've sat on both sides of this conversation: as the therapist, and as the woman doing the 2am math.

If you're in North Carolina or Florida and this post felt like it was written about you, I'd love to support you. I offer virtual sessions and accept BCBS and Aetna. I offer virtual therapy for women in North Carolina and Florida, and you can join the interest list for the next Considering Single Motherhood support group.

You're not behind. You're not broken. You're considering — and considering deserves support, not pressure.

Carrie Meckler, LCMHC-S, LCAS, is a licensed therapist and the founder of Coping Forward Counseling Services. She specializes in supporting women considering single motherhood by choice and is a solo mom by choice herself.