My decision to become a father was quite gradual. I am 48 now and as a gay man of that generation, you never think you can become a parent. Then you see that other people like me have done it and you think maybe it is an option after all.

Working in family law, I did a few parental order cases and met people – straight and gay – who have become parents through surrogacy, so I decided to take the same journey. I thought, however, I would do it with a partner who wanted the same thing. But that didn’t happen and I was getting older. I didn’t want to still be working in my 70s to pay for my child to go through university, so I chose to go it alone and become a single dad.

Once I had made the decision to get started, I was mentally prepared to go ahead with it no matter the costs. I initially wanted to do it in Canada but, like the UK (where commercial surrogacy is illegal), there are very few surrogates. I eventually chose to do it in California. I went through an agency, which matched me with a surrogate, and I found an egg donor. She became pregnant through IVF and then in 2016 – a year after I started the whole process – I was a dad.

All in, including travel, healthcare, agency and surrogate fees, it cost $200,000 (£153,000). It was a lot more than the initial estimate quoted by the agency, but I was very excited and I still am very happy with the decision. As far as midlife crisis purchases go, this is the best one! Becoming a father is life-changing.

It turned out to be a huge financial risk though. I am a German citizen who lived and worked in London for 27 years. I also have a British passport and before deciding to become a parent I was self-employed, running my own family law firm.

I used to have an office with staff and a turnover of six figures. Yes, in a good year I could put money aside after paying the overheads (up to £100,000) and tax, but in a bad year it got quite tight. I lived frugally, and that’s how I saved enough. I am not someone who buys labels, eats at The Ivy, does drugs or whatever else people spend their money on.

But having children in London can be very expensive. My local nursery charged about £2,000 a month for five days a week. Yes, kids are eligible for free hours after they turn three, but not all nurseries are signed up to the scheme. I therefore hired an au pair. She cost £85 a week, including board and lodging, and it was just good to have a second adult around to talk to. That kept me sane.

Despite closing the office to cut costs and working from home, I was still only breaking even. Over the past four years I have effectively earned nothing and have been living on savings. That’s why I decided to stop working completely and move to Berlin in August 2019.

One of the big advantages of living in Germany is the low cost of childcare. Kindergarten is free from one until they start primary school at six. It makes a huge difference. The housing costs are probably not far behind the UK. I’m paying €2,000 (£1,700) a month for a three-bed flat on the outskirts of the city.

However, not everything is more affordable. Over-the-counter drugs are incredibly expensive. In England, you can buy your paracetamol in the supermarket for 25p a packet. But here you have to go to a pharmacy and they will only sell you branded ones for about €6.50.

Entertaining my child is also more costly here. Whereas in London most museums are free, in Berlin I have to pay at least €10 for a ticket.

There’s no NHS in Germany, so everyone has insurance – the cost of which comes out of your salary and is dependent on your earnings. But it’s very complicated and the price varies from person to person. If you are unintentionally unemployed, the job centre pays for it. I am in a position where I am neither, so have to find a job pretty soon so I can slot in to that system. In the meantime I have private insurance and I still have enough savings to support us.

Whatever happens next, I will never begrudge giving up my job to have a child. People who have children when they are in their 20s or 30s sometimes feel they missed out on their career and desperately want to go back to it, but I feel I have done everything I wanted to do as a lawyer. I did it to the max. I’ve started a new chapter in my life.