The F-Word I Can’t Get Out of My Head as a Single 30-Year-Old

The decision to have children can be independent of being in a relationship.

Fran Foulkes-Taylor (she/her)
Modern Women
3 min readJan 15, 2023

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Here for a quickie? Check out The Juice at the end.

I hate that my body is on a baby timeline. I really want children, but I’d also love to hit the pause button for 10 years and not have to even think about my eggs.

I am also aware that the odds of spontaneous pregnancy decline rapidly after 35 years old.

The f-word I can’t stop thinking about

Six months ago, I turned 30. Three days later I became single by choice.

I’ve always been aware to not converge my desire to have children with my desire to fall in love. I don’t want dating to be laced with undercurrent thoughts about ‘leaving it too late’ or ‘I wonder if he’d be a good father?’ But I’ve also noticed that the older I get, the closer these two desires become to overlapping.

Aaah fertility. The f-word I can’t get out of my head.

Since my birthday I’ve had a lot of reflection time (I did a bit of a ‘find myself’ driving trip around Australia…and India) and firmly decided that I would like to have children, regardless of whether I meet someone I want to have children with.

To test or not to test?

Armed with the adage of ‘knowledge is power’ etc, I decided to get an Anti-Müllerian hormone (AMH) blood test, which basically gives you an indication of your ovarian reserve. I got the test with the confidence of a pregnant woman with triplets, i.e. I thought I’d be overflowing with eggs. If I was my Mum I’d be three kids deep by now. My brothers have kids. See…fertile!

Turns out, my egg basket is not overflowing. My AMH level is actually below the 10th percentile for my age. Hmph. Does that mean I’m going to go through early menopause? Will it be difficult for me to get pregnant? According to my doctor, not necessarily. Whilst I may very well run out of eggs earlier than someone with normal levels, AMH level is apparently not a great predictor of fertility. It doesn’t tell me how quickly my egg reserve will decline, nor does it predict my ability to fall pregnant.

Part of me wishes I hadn’t taken the test, but at the same time, it’s a concrete reminder to not take fertility for granted. It’s also made me consider other options for becoming a parent.

What are my options, then?

If I do choose to go down the path of having a child without a partner, I can use a sperm donor (known to me or anonymous), or I can adopt. I could also choose to foster. If using a sperm donor is something I want to do, then freezing my eggs is an option worth considering earlier rather than later (as the basket’s not getting any fuller).

I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I’m going to be doing a fair bit of research this year into each of my options. I acknowledge that I might not be able to have kids naturally (or at all), and in three years’ time, I may have changed my mind completely.

But, for now, I feel a big weight has lifted off my shoulders because I don’t have to feel sad that my options for children are dependent on having a long-term partner.

The Juice

I’ve made the decision to have children (if I can) regardless of my relationship status in the future. And it feels good!

Disclaimer: This is an opinion piece and I’m writing from my own perspective. I also recognise that the decision to have children without a partner comes with a significant amount of privilege. I have good earning potential, I have a safety net, and I have incredible family and friends. I know I’ll be ok as a single parent.

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Fran Foulkes-Taylor (she/her)
Modern Women

Sexologist by day ☀️ Educator by write🖊️ I live in regional Western Australia delivering sexuality and relationship education. Email: fran@franksexology.com