Three times I have come close...

So, what kind of woman would contemplate carrying a near-stranger's child for nine months, giving birth to him or her and then sharing the responsibilities of co-parenting with a father who will not live under the same roof?

There appears to be many such women. Those in their late 30s or early 40s, divorced with a child and wanting another - or never been married, not in a permanent relationship and, sensing the biological clock ticking ever louder, are desperately wanting to give birth before it is too late.

I have had three women willing to investigate the possibility of bearing me (us) a child. I had barely been divorced from Kate in 2007 when a friend mentioned that Isabella, a 40-year-old woman in her circle of female friends, was badly wanting a child and might be open to conceiving outside of a "love relationship".

She seemed ideal. Popular and with a good job, Isabella was a strong and independent woman who would probably not bring much in the way of fear and baggage into the equation. I was not quite as ready. My "infertile" marriage - and the break-up - was all-too fresh in my mind and I was hurting badly.

In the past year, my mother had died and my business had come crashing to the ground. I was picking up the pieces after a series of life-changing events and was not emotionally or financially stable enough to take on the responsibility of co-creating a child.

However, I spoke with Isabella and we agreed to think it over and "touch base" when we each had a good idea on how to go forward. I thought hard, thought even harder - and then even harder - and knew that I was not in the right place at that time to go through with it. I stalled. She waited. By the time I phoned to tell her that, in all honesty, I wasn't ready to do this, she had changed her mind and said that she would rather take the chance of meeting "Mr Right" (aka Mr Father). I am happy to say that she met that man and they are now married with a beautiful child they can happily call their own.

In 2008 I slipped into a relationship with a close friend. I didn't see it coming. I had always felt a deep attraction to Natalie. She was married, but only in the technical sense as her and her husband had shared no love or intimacy for five years. They did, however, have a gorgeous daughter with whom I had a close and beautiful connection. But Nat and her husband were forced by their strained financial circumstances to remain in the same home and do the best they could to bring up Frances.

I hoped that Nat might want to have another child. A child with me. But she didn't. She was, however, open-minded enough to want to continue our relationship while I sought another woman to bear me the child I desperately wanted. In fact, she brought her to me. I was in the middle of a three-month adventure holiday when Nat notified me that a woman from her book club would consider playing The Mother in my fairytale script.

Bad timing. I wasn't due to get home for another two months. I phoned and spoke to Deanne. It wasn't surprising to me that she sounded apprehensive but she also indicated a genuine willingness to discuss my proposal. We decided to leave it until I had returned from my journey across South Africa. We would have coffee and see where it took us. Two weeks before I could fly home, I phoned again, only to hear her say that she had "given it a lot of thought and had decided that such a co-parenting arrangement was not for her".

I was disappointed. But not surprised. This idea of mine must be so daunting to a woman, especially one who has never met me, never mind formed some sort of trusting bond. The pitfalls are obvious. And better to know sooner rather than later that the other person's heart is not really in it.

But I continued to dream that The Quest might yet work. I moved to another city. My relationship with Nat wobbled and ground to a halt. Then, one night in Cape Town earlier this year, Belinda, my parenting counsellor friend, invited me to a friend's party. That friend swiftly became somebody who would seriously look at co-driving The Quest.

Larissa was not yet 40, hadn't been in a relationship for a while and was, is, very keen to have a child. She is independent, has a stable job, has an interest in the arts and owns a stylish apartment. She is also a very lovely person. Spiritual and deep-thinking, Larissa was, on the face of it, perfect mother material. But just not somebody to whom I am sufficiently attracted to have a love relationship.

Larissa was not only keen to give birth to our child. She was also very keen to give birth to a relationship with me. This was simply not on. It went much further off when I received an abusive e-mail, written after rather too much red wine, berating me for not having replied to an e-mail sent a couple of days earlier. Doubts about Larissa had been creeping into my mind and this emotion-fuelled barrage confirmed that she wanted much more than just a co-parenting relationship with me. It just would not work.

This time, it was me choosing to pull out. It was difficult. Difficult to disappoint her. and another disappointment for me. We had much in common in our approach to how The Quest would materialise. We would live some distance apart. She had a good support network among family and friends. And I would pitch in every other weekend to take care of Baby and whenever she travelled on holiday. And, of course, at those times when an event would pop up that she wanted to attend. I, as is written in the manifesto of The Quest, would be hands-on when required, changing nappies, cleaning up vomit, doing whatever is required of a parent to bring up baby. And more. Just not all the time.

But it was not to be. An emotional attachment had formed and was muddying the waters.

So, I continue again in my search to find the child I crave so much. I am due to meet parenting expert friend Belinda in the next week to further discuss the dynamics with which I must grapple in order for my dream to become a reality. This challenge is one I hope I can overcome. I have faced much disappointment in my life. And I won't be shaken from my path to fatherhood. Because I believe.

I believe I would be a wonderful father. I believe that co-creating and co-parenting a child outside of a love relationship is no less ideal than two divorced parents attempting to do the same. Probably far better, given the resentment and manipulation which often informs the dynamic between divorcees.

Yes. I believe. I believe that becoming a parent would be the most beautiful thing that will ever happen to me. I do dare to believe that I will become the father that I have every right to be. And I have no doubt that it will make me the happiest man in the world.