'I had 6 rounds of IVF on my own. On the seventh, I fell pregnant.'

You're almost four, with sparkling sapphire eyes and golden hair, a chunky giggle and ludicrous sense of humour. You're so much me, yet in you I also see ephemeral flashes of something unique; the precious genes of the amazing anonymous donor who helped me make you. We've never met him, yet he is deeply planted within our family tree and story.

Recently I've noticed I'm avoiding picture books about daddies because you don't have one. Reading stories about mummies and daddies doing fun things together tugs on my heart. I fumble and stutter, clumsily trying to edit words. I'm wounded by these stories on your behalf. Yet your easy acceptance and that brilliant love of life you have means you're nonplussed. You may not have a daddy, but it turns out you don't need one; 'dad jokes' and daggy dad humour are your natural specialty. I feel silly censoring children's stories; it's not okay. And I've promised I'll always be honest with you. So I will.

While you're here, watch Bianca Dye speak about the last egg retrieval from her 'emotional 2 years of IVF'. Post continues after video.

It's time I tell you the story of how you and I came to be a family. Our Team of Two. As time goes on, you'll learn that, like so many other little people in the world, we're beneficiaries of the heartbreak and miracle of IVF. And you'll learn that our family of two bursts with as much love as a family of 10.

At the outset, I must admit that being a solo mum wasn't part of The Plan. My Gen X upbringing delivered a hetero-normative set of assumptions about how life would be. Yet at 37, I found myself single (I had been for decades). There's shame in admitting long term aloneness. Particularly as a woman. The ugly truth is, I've often felt like 'damaged goods'. A visceral description, I know; one I'd chastise a friend for using. However, after experiencing some top shelf medical gaslighting over many years alongside the 10 surgeries for endo and adeno, one remaining ovary and a hysterectomy at 41, you feel damaged. I've felt I'm not enough for someone else. Or perhaps I'm too much. 

Bury's concept of 'biographical disruption' melds perfectly with the grief of fertility struggles and how some women become solo mums. Derived from medical sociology, the term describes these experiences as 'a fundamental rupture in the fabric of everyday life, and a resulting disruption of the narratives about the future that people use to understand themselves and the trajectories of their lives'. 

Long-term singledom, IVF and solo motherhood didn't feature in the biography I'd subconsciously swallowed. So while friends and family moved forward with partnerships, marriage and kids, it felt like my 'trajectory' was frozen in time. In fact, it did a U-turn and headed off in another direction.

Listen to Get Me Pregnant, Mamamia's podcast that makes understanding assisted fertility easy. Post continues after podcast.

You were my seventh and final embryo. After the sixth 'failure' I was forced into complete surrender; brought to my knees by broken hope and grief. As author and podcaster Elizabeth Day describes in her discussions about fertility, even the language of IVF is inherently woman-blaming: 'failure to respond to treatment', 'incompetent cervix', 'irritable uterus' and 'inhospitable womb'. I heard every single one.

And as I sat in countless sterile waiting rooms among stiff, grim-faced couples, I've never felt so alone. Even the never-ending admin forms seemed to conspire against solo women; inappropriately worded, vast sections for 'Partner 2'; even in this era of supposed family diversity. I'd edit them with crosses and circles, much to the perturbed reception staff.

And then you stuck around.

Image: Supplied.

What a cliché though! If someone had told me this 'final embryo success story' amid all the treatment trauma, I would have dismissed it as yet another example of most people's complete ignorance of the reality of IVF: the guts, blood, pills, pessaries. The obsessive undies checking. The failure rates. The grossness of it all. I didn't want to hear other people's 'success stories'. I didn't want to be asked why I didn't adopt. Why didn't I simply sleep with someone to get pregnant (WTAF??).

All the IVF patchworks we weave through experience are different. I chose a donor. He was a good, kind, tall and generous man. This is just one of the many ways to create a family. You do you.

And we'll do us. I never want you to feel the absence of a figure that was never meant to be there in the first place. Mummy chose a donor who helped her to have a baby, and now we're a family of Two. This is how it was meant to be; we lack nothing. Even if the world hasn't caught up or evolved to embrace the diversity of the concept of 'family', or when you can't see families like ours on the kinder family photo board; different doesn't mean less than.

Image: Supplied.

Amid the pride and gratitude, there are also tiny griefs within my biography. Not having a partner to share your awesomeness with - the fun or furious times, not feeling 'enough' on the rough days, trying to be Mummy and Daddy, feeling broken at 5am while recovering from surgery and hearing you're awake for the day; knowing how much you'd grab another parent or a sibling with both hands.

Yet these are my tiny griefs, parts of my story. I'm working hard to ensure your story is one of acceptance, diversity, pride, gratitude and love. Of knowing who you are and how you came to be from the start. When you ask tricky questions, I will tell you the truth and try to banish the guilt that sits ready on my shoulder; the supercharged solo mum guilt and grief that I'm 'not enough'.

Image: Supplied.

In days to come, I'll hold your peachy hand and tell you about the other azure eyed, golden-haired little people in the world who look like you and share your miraculous genes. They are part of us. And they make our story beautiful. As it turns out, that U-turn I took to create our family is far more magical than the old biography I finally let go of and set free.

Feature Image: Supplied.