The SM40s Crowd - Where Independent Women Over 40 Pursue Solo Motherhood, On Their Terms
Solo women around the world are discovering that going solo isn't just possible - it's the chosen path for many intelligent women looking to take family-building into their own hands.
Instagram: @solofertility40s
Society tells us we have a “fertility window”.
But for those of us over 40, that window feels more like a fast-closing door.
We were told to build our careers first, to wait for the right partner, to “let it happen naturally.” Now, many of us are realising that the traditional timeline wasn’t built for us.
The dating apps didn’t deliver, life got in the way, and suddenly, motherhood feels like a race against time. The truth?
Pursuing solo motherhood in your 40s isn’t just possible—it’s a growing movement.
But the system isn’t built to support us, and the path is filled with obstacles: dismissive doctors, an industry that exploits our hopes, and a culture that still questions our choices.
That’s exactly what we’re going to talk about today—navigating solo fertility over 40 with clarity, confidence, and the support you deserve.
🔹 The need to advocate for yourself in a system that often says “no” to women over 40;
🔹 The myths, marketing, and medical biases that make fertility treatment harder than it needs to be;
🔹 Why the ‘SM40s’ movement—independent women over 40 pursuing Solo Motherhood—is changing the narrative around single motherhood and fertility at this stage of life.
Let’s dive in.
My story and how I become an SM40
In my 20s, I finished university and moved to London.
Just about capable of taking care of myself, I immersed myself in city life and my career. Navigating the noise of a vibrant south London neighbourhood and working demanding hours - in those years, motherhood was a distant dream.
My 30s was a different ballgame.
I broke free of Corporate, birthed a new role as an independent communications consultant; bought and renovated a house; took a sabbatical to race a boat from Australia to China; travelled as often as possible; and was happy to be consumed with the many distractions of London life.
(Falling out of east London warehouse parties, wining and dining clients in Soho, and wild late nights in Brixton. I had a blast.)
Then there were the dating apps.
Oh, the apps. One encounter after another that led nowhere. Guys who apparently aspired to leave the city, to travel, and pursue new horizons. But their comfortable salaries proved too alluring. Yet I still aspired to leave London, and eventually made peace with doing so alone.
(At this point, I still hadn’t come close to meeting any guy who I’d even vaguely want for the father of my child.)
Turning 38, I accepted I was in the grip of burnout. I needed to make a drastic change, and fast. A car numberplate ending in GOA on my local high street sealed the deal.
Six weeks later, I’d packed up my entire London life. Fed up with the politics, I exited the UK on the day we ‘Brexited’, and headed to India on a one-way ticket - with no plan.
Everything just flowed.
I found work quickly in a boutque resort close to south Goa’s golden shores. Toes in the sand, monkeys leaping overhead, ants crawling all over my clients (!) as I shared my new Shiatsu skills. Three years of study for the Shiatsu Diploma set me up with a skill that improved my own health, plus an income that didn’t tie me to a laptop.
My timing was fortuitious: just a few weeks later, India went into swift and sudden lockdown.
I stayed in India for 2.5 years.
As well as safety and adventure and everything my soul had craved for many years, India helped me see a path for solo motherhood. I’d found somewhere I could be the ‘most me’. Tropical temperatures, animals, sunshine. My sun-loving Mediterranean roots soaked up the rays.
And let’s be practical: I also discovered affordable childcare.
At £20 per day for a woman to cook, clean and help with child-minding, I realised I could thrive, work, and still spend as much time as possible with my new human in those crucial early years.
But suddenly, I was approaching 43.
A friend in Australia with a gorgeous daughter conceived through donor sperm and egg, phoned one day as I walked my local beach. She commented, “You’re in a good position, why don’t you consider IVF?” And with that, I got going.
But it was a tough start.
There was no guide on what to do or who to trust. Fertility social media was overwhelming.
So I panicked and made several easily avoidable mistakes.
Perhaps you didn’t pack up your life and change country.
But from talking to other women, my story is a familar one:
Figuring out life, forging a career, assuming you’ll meet a partner, feeling repeatedly let down by the dreaded dating apps; or relying on real life chance encounters to find your life partner; or only having the financial means for IVF once in your 40s.
For whatever reason, choosing fertility treatment became a now or never decision. So here you are - pursuing Solo Motherhood.
Some of my friends in their late 40s rolled the dice once - it didn’t happen for them. They’re incredible, intelligent women with successful careers. They walked away from motherhood, sad but accepting. (They tell me it’s still hard at times, seeing other women holding their newborns.)
My desire for a child is strong. So I’ve rolled the dice twice.
This summer, I’m planning to roll it three more times, attemping to use my own eggs and donor sperm. I’ve slowly re-built myself after the awfulness of the Meriofert (and human growth hormone) that hammered me in November 2024. It was one of the worst months of my 43 years on record.
Things are different this time:
The process is more known. I am truly hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. I know the odds are against me, but nor can any doctor say it’s impossible.
I’ll be using Pergoveris again, which previously got me three embryos. The doctor at Embryolab feels supportive; and anyway, I’ve now learned how to advocate for myself, and do my own research. Do doctors really keep up to speed on the latest studies? Rather than assume, I’ll read PubMed myself.
I’ve had plenty of injection practice. I’ve overcome my lifelong, involuntary fear of needles. I lie down, look the other way, and the needle goes in. Sometimes I don’t even feel it (!)
I’ve got a strong network of supportive women (both solo and partnered). This feels significant.
But when I started out in June 2024, I was so lost.
Sometimes I cry thinking about the naive, hopeful person I was back then (not even a year ago). Placing upmost faith in this system - the business of fertility - and puffed up on false optimism by my doctor.
Yet feeling repeatedly failed, overlooked and treated like a number.
I know rubbish patient care isn’t specific to solo women, or women over 40.
But the potential for mistreatment, manipulation, and if I’m honest - exploitation - is even greater for women above 40 with our more fragile body, eggs and dreams. The IVF ‘lottery’ becomes a tough (and expensive) game to find that magic euploid.
This means navigating:
Fear marketing at it’s finest. “Buy my [framework/methodology/blueprint] because [insert random unverified stat] got pregnant after 3 months of [whatever their service is].” Stoking your fear to make a sale is shocking - yet so common. (I’ve signed up to many marketing emails and am compiling a list of the worst offenders.)
Doctors refusing to treat you. It’s hard to stomach because it suggests you’re chasing a fantasy. Yet their refusal is likely more about protecting their success stats. It’s your body, your money and your choice. Find a doctor who will truly partner with you across several cycles (plan for at least 3; it’s a bonus if it happens sooner.)
Decisions about expensive add-ons - like PGTA. There’s the lawsuit in the US against PGTA testing companies who overstated the accuracy of the testing, and discarded potentially viable embroyos. Plus the doctors like my Spanish one, who failed to inform me upfront that Spain refuses to transfer aneuploid embryos. Though testing may have been the right decision, the choice to test should have been mine, not his. (All three embryos were anueploid.) Any good doctor should clearly explain the pros and cons.
A tidal wave of social media misinformation. So-called ‘experts’ pushing their expensive solutions: Ovulation trackers, diet plans, special ‘fertility’ supplements - do we really need any of it? And who should we actually listen to?
Related read: Busting Fertility Myths With Data: 3 Things I Loved About This Podcast With An Economist (& Why)
Pursuing Solo Motherhood in your 40s is a movement taking shape.
The SM40s are defined by:
Your right to be a mother;
Your right to decide how to spend your money;
Body sovereignty, the autonomy to make decisions about one's own physical being, including reproductive choices.
If stats in the HFEA’s 2024 report are to be believed, solo women undertaking fertility treatment are a fast-growing cohort. While stats are specific to the UK, we can guess this is a global trend.
The number of women over 40 is unknown; but we might assume 40-somethings make up a fair portion, given the number of clinics I’ve spoken with who report increases in +40 women seeking treatment.
Or even the majority of their clients being +40 women.
As numbers climb, one-parent families seeking fertility treatment is becoming normalised. Older generations may not understand solo child-rearing.
But more disappointing is the judgement from other women (as reported to me by others undergoing IVF and my own experiences):
Those in traditional 2.4 family units sharing their unasked for opinions on solo motherhood (numerous women have mentioned this to me, disappoined at the judgement and lack of support. Are they jealous of our freedom?!)
Those not in traditional family units sharing their unasked for opinions (yes really, one friend with two accidental pregnancies by different men messaged out of the blue to share her strongly negative views about IVF).
Close friends who vanish at the outset (also my experience - zero interest in the many challenges I’m undertaking alone to pursue solo motherhood, despite the effort I extended to all their life milestones of marriages, and new homes, and their babies).
So new friendships coalesce. Bonds defined by a respect for the choice you’re making - free of judgement.
Expressions of support, from open-minded women treading the same path, as well as those who are not.
Genuine concern for your progress. Women who check in to see how you’re doing; and support from select family members.
(My fabulous 77 year old godmother just gets it: “Have a baby now and hope to meet someone later. Makes sense!”)
Starting fertility treatment in your 40s as a solo woman needn’t be so difficult.
Yes, it’s one of the toughest processes you may ever undertake.
But tailored resources for the SM40 crowd can alleviate some of the stress.
Books, webinars, Facebook group meet-ups and memberships that acknowledge your specific challenges, your determination and your resilience.
And tailored information is so needed (hence this channel).
I’ve already waded through enough resources that don’t make me feel resourced:
Webinars with women discussing their partner’s sperm quality issues;
30-something women wondering about supplements, or whether to egg freeze;
Women struggling to get NHS support (my window for it passed long ago).
Books that make only a passing reference to Diminished Ovarian Reserve, or tackling low AMH; and share diet plans for improving sperm quality.
Memberships to join because they’re run by a solo mum in her 40s. Happy for her! But I’m 43 and still trying. So how can she relate to my struggle?
The SM40s are a unique bunch.
These women are challenging existing stereotypes; re-defining motherhood beyond traditional norms, and on their own terms.
In practice, this looks like:
Advocating for your choices, eg. your right to pursue solo motherhood;
Supporting other women while respecting their choices, eg. if they don’t wish to announce their use of donor eggs, a very personal decision;
Questioning medical opinion, especially where there is no clear consensus, and doing your own research, eg. on PGTA, transferring day 3/5 embryos, when to use donor eggs (some doctors push this option too fast).
I never thought I’d be an SM40. But perhaps given my independence and resourcefulness, it was always going to be this way.
How do I know that life as an SM40 can be a fulfilling, enriching experience for both mother and child?
Of course I sometimes have doubts.
But I return to a strong inner-knowing, that it can be my reality.
I know because of the many women who are already forging this path; juggling careers and nurseries and play-dates. Both friends and new acqaintances, in the UK and India, with children born through fertility treatment, or through circumstance (daddies who disappeared before birth).
I know because of studies by Professor Susan Golombok as she reports in her brilliant book, We Are Family, demonstrating that it’s the health of the structure, not the shape of the structure itself, that determines healthy mother-child bonds, and the raising of well-balanced children.
I know because of the many traditional family structures with children experiencing significant challenges; so the structure isn’t a forgone conclusion that it’s only these units in which children flourish.
It takes decades to re-educate and change long-held perceptions. Slowly but surely, negative narratives about one-parent families are changing.
Far from being too old, or what will the neighbours think, or how could you use genetic material from an unknown man, or outright declarations that “you won’t cope” - single parent families are coping, and in fact, are thriving.
Whether others choose to acknowledge that, or not, is their concern.
SM40s are creating their own families; raising healthy children; and growing their own villages, in cultures (unlike in India) where traditional family units are fracturing and re-forming.
The SM40s are not a footnote in fertility—we’re a movement.
Shape your future.
Find your tribe.
Keep the faith.
This is the home of SM40—where independent women over 40 pursue Solo Motherhood.
Related stories:
Why We Try: A Solo Woman’s Quest for Motherhood and a Lifelong Dream Fulfilled
I Got My First Fertility Consultation Totally Wrong. Here’s 3 Key Things I’m Doing Differently.
FREE: Resources page on with my favourite webinars, articles, forums and podcasts.
FREE: 10 Important Questions for Your Consultation
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