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Which is fortunate, because my story played out differently from any fairy-tale rhyme. And that's exactly what I wanted out of life — a lot.Mine goes something like this: failed engagement, forbidden love, wrote a book, Italy, heartbreak, fibroids, sperm donor, miracles, salt bagels, magnificent baby, sold a TV show, Tinder, hot guy who could fix things, love, closeness, co-parenting, Eames chairs, cohabitation, frozen pizza, intimacy, tutus, everything. I had a reckless heart, a wild soul, and an infinite passion for art and humanity and any boy with long hair, divorced parents, and inner depth.In the past, dating was a purely visceral experience. Within seconds, my body always knew, and from that point on, I would be insatiable. But I'm pretty sure it's her — and I kinda live for that. Now that I had a baby, there was a slight change in the system. The other is: Why did you like me on our first date? Before we said goodbye, he asked if I wanted to hang out again… A brief flirtation and fiery cocktail was all I really desired. He was not the first, nor the last, guy who embraced that not-so-insignificant detail. Things get real, fast, when you’re dating with a baby. I sought advice on a popular Single Mom by Choice Facebook group that had always been helpful in the past. When it came to raising my daughter, I could make whatever choices I wanted. The hilarious, life-affirming things babies do can be so heartwarming and surreal that it occasionally felt counterintuitive to experience those happy-tear moments in isolation.

And hey, great.***On October 3, 2015, I had my daughter, Hazel Delilah Shelasky. I had consistent work that always paid the bills and successful friends who gave us cashmere onesies and weekend escapes.He wanted yurts and skirts and I wanted labor pains and lullabies, and suddenly our burning love was burned to the ground. Because despite my taste in such difficult men, I always wanted to be a mother. I met with the most beautiful and affirming Single Moms by Choice; I read every book and blog on the donor decision. I'm just trying to illustrate how the universe took care of me once I took control of my own destiny.It felt thrilling and joyful and profoundly right.***The day I officially decided to move forward with the process — locked in the IUI appointment, narrowed down the donor — the Sexiest Man Alive (literally, once named him this) flirted with me at a party. Famous Guy was the first of many lovely men to ask me out despite the fact that I was about to be, and then became, fully pregnant.I've always attributed my healthy relationship with sex to that cosmic night. Off-the-charts chemistry with on-the-fringe men basically defined all my long-term relationships. I savored the challenge of seducing, then taming, these artists and outlaws. This one was with a gritty Roman who had swept me away to Italy with the promise of, among other things, little Brooklyn-Roman bambinos.A year later, he decided his true calling was to ride motorcycles and live in India and not be with me. It felt dead wrong to wait for a man's permission to get pregnant. So I decided to pursue motherhood with every bone in my body and every buck in my bank account.

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