Turin, 3rd June
I’ve always dreamed of having a “picture-perfect” family. As a young girl, I already saw myself as a mother. That’s why, at forty, after a series of broken relationships, I felt the need to create a family—even if it’s on my own.
I watched friends and acquaintances become mothers and felt a bittersweet emotion: I was happy for them because they finally had their family, and I felt like the “aunt” of their children. But at the same time, there was a bitter aftertaste, because I had not been blessed with the chance to become a mother.
And this was not because of me or my inability to be a parent, but because of the absence of another person.
I already knew about MAR —Medically Assisted Reproduction— at least in theory, and I was well aware that in Italy only couples could have access to MAR, not single individuals.
One day, while chatting by the Po River with a friend of mine who knew the Luca Coscioni Association—which advocates for civil rights—I asked myself: “Why not try to apply for MAR access in my own country?” That one conversation with her would eventually lead me all the way to the Constitutional Court.
Trying to have a child abroad remains my plan B. But before that, I felt the need to take action and make an attempt here in Italy—so that other single women like me wouldn’t be forced into this kind of reproductive exile, as if we had something to hide, or were fleeing from some wrongdoing.
Allowing MAR for single people wouldn’t take anything away from anyone. What seems irrational to me is that some people are forced to make a heavy emotional and financial investment to migrate to another country just to access what should be a fundamental right.
After all, single mothers have always existed: they used to be called “unwed mothers,” and despite all the challenges, they always managed to take care of their children. No one ever dared to say they were second-class mothers.
I myself know many single mothers for a variety of reasons. Now that I want to become one myself, I respect them even more than I did in the past, because I am well aware of the practical aspects of this type of parenthood, in which you are alone in facing what is already a complex challenge for those who live as a couple.
The aspect of motherhood that I desire the most is caring for another person, and I think that is what has driven me to dream of becoming a mother since I was a little girl. I’m not afraid of motherhood, but I certainly feel the weight of responsibility in caring for a “new” person who is totally dependent on me.
Fortunately, I can count on a good network of friends and family, although at the moment I’m trying to protect them from the media hype surrounding my legal battle, which will be long and painful.
With the assistance of the association’s legal team, I have applied for access to MAR at an assisted reproduction centre in Tuscany. After being refused, I appealed to the Court of Florence, which raised the issue of constitutional legitimacy.
My case has therefore reached the Constitutional Court, thanks to the support of the legal team of the Luca Coscioni Association, which also launched the “PMA per tutte” (Assisted Reproduction for All) campaign.
Together with my lawyers, the Tuscan centre’s refusal was presented as a violation of my fundamental rights guaranteed by the Constitution. During the hearing last March, when the court heard all the arguments of the parties involved, I sat in the back row the whole time.
I was in a corner, feeling very emotional. Suddenly, a group of schoolchildren entered the courtroom: I felt touched and saw it as a sign.
I want my future son or daughter to understand from an early age the importance of certain struggles, because it could be thanks to this battle that he or she could come into the world.
