She dove right in: “Michal, your time is up. If you want children, you need to get on it.” At the time, I was a member of the Israeli parliament and a public figure, accustomed to achieving any goal I set. But when my friend shoved reality in my face, I couldn’t hold back the tears. I was suddenly confronted with a sense of failure for not meeting a basic social expectation: marriage and children.
Up to then, I had always been focused on two things: my studies and my career. A romantic relationship was just not my priority. At 35, I bought myself some time by freezing 19 eggs. My friend’s candid intervention was a wake-up call. If I didn’t make my move, I could miss my chance at motherhood.
After my tears subsided, I evaluated my options: I could use donor sperm and be a single mother, or I could look for a co-parent and raise kids in a partnership.
Co-parenting, I learned, was a model where two parents live separately, without being romantically involved with each other, and raise kids together. I discovered that co-parenting usually entails a partnership of equals in which all decisions are made together, including the child’s name, educational frameworks, extracurricular activities, and the division of time between co-parents. Frankly, this was a far cry from my parents’ generation, and even from many of my married friends, where one parent clearly carried the brunt of the work. I liked the egalitarian feel of this new model.
What worried me most was the requirement to stay geographically close to the other co-parent for an extended period of time. This was necessary because the child would be going back and forth between homes.
I also realized that co-parenting has some distinct advantages over being a single mom. It would give me the space and flexibility to balance work, leisure, and other interests. I’d get a chance to rest, refresh, and do self-care, making it easier to stay calm despite an intensive schedule. Of course, there was also the financial aspect. Raising a child is expensive and I wanted more than one.
If you asked anyone who knew me then which type of parent I’d choose to be, they’d probably say single mom. My friends know me to be a strong, independent woman who speaks her mind and takes charge. I too had doubts about whether I wanted to compromise on significant aspects of my life and make decisions collaboratively with another person. But, ultimately my mind went to my political career. If I could successfully get diverse political parties to reach consensus, surely I could engage in constructive dialogue with a parenting partner.
Once I made my decision, a sense of purpose washed over me. I was ready to dive in. Unfortunately, at the time, there were no services like Nesting to assist in the delicate process of finding the right co-parenting partner. Only a few co-parenting websites existed at the time. I started my search by spreading the word among friends.
I met with several candidates before finding ND, who today is my co-parenting partner in raising two beautiful children. We found each other online, and were pleased to discover we had many friends in common, and shared an interest in social and political activism.
ND, a gay man, knew straight away that I was the right match for him. To be thorough, he met with one other potential partner, which only solidified his decision to continue with me. Throughout the process, he was consistently one step ahead of me. He arrived well prepared for what lay ahead. He propelled us forward, introducing me to his friends and family, while I, typically accustomed to being in charge, found myself following his lead. The first time it dawned on me that he might be the right partner was at a dinner party with my friends. We went to a nice restaurant and I observed their interactions, body language, conversations, and chemistry. It made sense to navigate the parenting journey together.
That experience helped me realize my first “rule” of what to look for in a co-parent: they needn’t be your best friend or soulmate. They should feel something like a work colleague whose company you enjoy, with whom you like having lunch every day, share similar values, and communicate smoothly and openly.
Even after ND and I decided to make it official, I was preoccupied with keeping my options open, and tried to avoid committing. My fertility doctor set me straight. When ND and I went to our appointment, she was no-nonsense, asking me, “So. When will you start?” At first, I gave her vague, non-committal answers, mumbling something about parliamentary commitments and an upcoming trip. She looked me straight in the eye and said, “Michal, enough. You’ve been putting this off for years.” She then asked me when I had my last period and I stammered, “yesterday.” I broke into a coughing fit when she replied, “Great, let’s start tomorrow.” I was out of excuses. It was time to make the leap.
We hadn’t yet signed a co-parenting agreement, so we downloaded a standard template, quickly reviewed it, and managed to sign in time to start fertility treatments the same month. In retrospect, I realize how fortunate we were that things went so smoothly. It was truly more luck than anything else. If I had to do it over, I wouldn’t have jumped into it so blindly. Since then, I’ve accompanied many couples on their paths, and come to appreciate the significance of a methodical, comprehensive process. A process of aligning expectations and minimizing pitfalls. A journey that benefits from the accumulated knowledge of other co-parents that came before.
After a year of undergoing fertility treatments, we joyfully welcomed a baby girl into our lives. The initial phase of parenting presented challenges for us both — adjusting to the new responsibilities of caring for a baby and the changes it brought to our co-parenting dynamic.
In the delicate period right after childbirth, many co-parents have the baby stay with the mother, while the other co-parent comes and goes to trade off shifts. For me and ND, it wasn’t enough. I rearranged my flat to give ND a comfortable place to sleep, so that he could easily stay over twice a week. That way, we both got to spend more time caring for our newborn, and I got whole nights of sleep, something most of my married girlfriends could only dream of.
On the other hand, I soon discovered that compromising was only easy in theory. Daily decisions brought real challenges. For instance, when our baby had a common, borderline case of “tied tongue,” I preferred to have it corrected as a precaution, but ND was hesitant, leading us to decide against it.
Over time, we realized it was okay to allow different behaviors at each of our homes. For example, at ND’s house, our daughter’s tricycle had a designated spot, whereas in my home, she could leave it anywhere. At the same time, in areas we felt consistent messaging mattered, we learned to find common ground. Although I was comfortable with the baby sleeping in my bedroom, ND believed it was important for her to sleep in the nursery. We compromised, transitioning her to the nursery later than ND wanted but sooner than I had hoped. Compromising required us to be patient and grasp the bigger picture.
The solid foundation we established allowed us to weather the storms. We endured two more years of heart wrenching fertility treatments together so that we could have a second child, our little boy. Over time, our family expanded, and our hearts grew fuller.
ND and I participated in a panel discussing different parenting models. At the end of the panel, we were asked for our best tips for prospective parents. His tip was that before you start looking for a co-parenting partner, first have an honest conversation with yourself — a self-evaluation that is mature, focused, and goal-oriented. When it was my turn, my take was nearly the opposite. Think of finding a co-parent as a decision on the fly, an experiment. Because if you keep holding out for what you think a perfect family should be, you might miss out on the very, very good option of co-parenting. It’s a lot like going shopping for a new outfit. Some clothes look great on the hanger, but don’t suit you, while others that you’d never think to try on fit you perfectly. A professional with a good eye will help you identify the right fits.
I succeeded in achieving my dream of motherhood, and today, Nesting allows me to help actualize the dreams of others. Some mornings I wake up to a text message from clients with an image of a newborn. It brings me back to the first time I met the now-co-parents. Each one sat in my office, at the beginning of their own journeys, a bit skeptical, anxious, yet hopeful. I recall the way their conversations ripened into a partnership. Now, seeing them with their new baby, it’s hard to imagine life any other way.
