Category Archives: LGBT

Revisiting the Dildocam

As you may or may not know, I’ve been having some digestive issues for, oh, over a year now.  The latest in a long line of medical investigations into the problem was to go get a … wait for it … vaginal ultrasound!  Yes.  Yes I did.

So there I was in the office with the curtain around the door, being asked to get waist-down naked.  It was downright spooky, I tell you.  The tech was telling me the usual, “I’m going to put some gel here,” etc.  And I kept saying, “I know. I know.  I know already.  I’ve done this about a million times.”  I told her about the infertility treatments.  She told me that she had just signed up to start them!  In the same clinic where Trucker was conceived.  It felt cosmic.

It also felt so different to be doing this familiar thing without the pressure of popping out follicles.  Without the blood being drawn, or having to remember my donor’s ID number.  It felt like a relief.  And a little bit sad because that excitement of making the baby won’t happen again. (Though I DO get to plan a wedding, finally.)  And I felt a kinship with you, my struggling ladies.  I know how many of you are still waist-down naked with your feet up in stirrups holding your breath while the doctor counts follicles.  Yes, I do.  Once you have been there, a part of you never leaves.  Even when your baby is three years old and throwing tantrums because you didn’t let him close the car door that he can’t reach with his seatbelt on.

My thoughts are with you today, TTCers.  May you one day have a baby who sings.

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Filed under IUI, LGBT, TTC

Favorites

I don’t know why I did it, but I feel like I made a gay parenting mistake.

My son, Cakie was talking about when he was in my tummy.  I told him he had been in Mama’s tummy.  Now he thinks I’m the least important mom.

My honey says not to worry, that all kids play favorites.  But not all kids have two wombs from which they could have sprung.  And not all kids are a cut and dry as Cake.  When he decides something, that is the end of the story.

So now I’m Trucker’s mom and A is his mom.  We keep trying to explain it to him; he keeps rejecting our explanations.  I spend much more time with him than A does.  We walk to school together.  I pick him up and entertain and feed him until A gets home.  He misses her.  So maybe he just wants to connect with her.

It doesn’t help that Trucker is a complete cling-o-rama on me.  He won’t let A read him a story.  Only me.  So when I try to read with Cakie, Trucker slides in and tries to take over.

They are both latching on to their bio moms.  It makes me feel weird.

Sorry I’ve not been blogging much.  My life feels a little like a hamster on a wheel.  Except I’m not getting any exercise.

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Filed under family, LGBT, my second son, my son

The Donor Mark

My son has the likes-to-watch-sports gene.  He did not get this from me.

I don’t plan to point things like this out to my kids.  There’s this unspoken fear of the moment when we will need to address the fact of the donors in our kids lives.  There is also this urge to pretend since we don’t know who the donors are, that we can make them go away.  Part of me wants my honey and I to be the only important people in the creation of our kids.

The other part of me knows that the donors are important.  Not only are they important, but I feel like even though I don’t know their names or their adult faces, I feel like we live with them.  We know them better than we know our good friends.  I’m so glad for them.  I’m so glad for whatever circumstances lead to them walking in to the cryobank, filling out all of those forms, walking uncomfortably into a little room and producing for us the ingredient that would eventually become our sons.  I am confident that wherever he is, Trucker’s donor is either thinking about throwing or actually throwing a ball.  Cakie’s donor is charming someone at this very moment.  I’m sure of it.

The discomfort comes from knowing that the donors are a question mark.  Will the boys be driven to try to identify them?  If they do find them, will these men disappoint my sons?  Since I have two different donors, will the boys have two uncomfortably different experiences surrounding their donors?  I am sure that they will want to know them, even if we down-play their role.  Once they take a biology class and see the fruit flies and their eye colors,  once they read a study on identical twins, or venture into my grandfather’s meticulously researched geneology of his side of my family, they will want to know.

I know this.  But I wish I could take that donor question mark and stretch it straight into an exclamation point.  A sure statement, showing a strong emotion.

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Filed under family, IUI, LGBT, my second son, my son, sperm shopping, Trucker

Facebook Throwdown

Since I’ve obviously been suffering from writers’ block, I thought I’d share with you some facebook drama I’ve managed, yet again, to whip up.

Long story short, I have an ex-friend, to whom I shall refer as Homophobala, who decided after knowing me for 20 years and knowing I was gay for ten of those years, to tell me on the day I called to let her know I was going to be a mother that she had already decided not to be my friend anymore because of my “lifestyle.”  Wow.  Did I really just tell that whole story in one sentence?  Well, I’ve told it  a lot because it is one of the most maddening and dumbfounding things that has ever happened to me.  After the phone call, I sent her a letter telling her not to ever contact me again.

I hadn’t heard from her again, though I have occasionally day-dreamed about sending her the gown I wore as her bridesmaid with no note, but a heart cut out of the middle.  Of course, realizing how psycho that seems, I have kept my end of the deal and refrained from smashing up gifts that she has given me in the past and mailing them to her home.  See?  I’m totally sane.

But I clearly have yet to get over my anger.  She popped up on another friend’s facebook page.

My high school friend [let’s call her Betty] on whose page she popped up had posted this as her status:

Upping the ante in this “thanksgiving challenge” thing. Let’s make it a little more challenging. Consider something that you regret, resent, or are generally annoyed by, and find something to be thankful for in the situation ANYWAY! list it.

Then Homophobala posted:

I am sure there are lots of things I regret if I think about it for even a little while. I am thankful that I have learned from most of those experiences and they have come together to make me who I am today, and put me where I am today. I am thankful for this life and who I am sharing it with and all the love forgiveness and freedom that comes with my beliefs.

I happy for her that she has found forgiveness.  I can’t seem to.  Just from seeing her  tiny digital face, I was shaking with rage for about an hour.  I also posted this:

I’m always annoyed when people use religion as an excuse to be hateful.

But I am so thankful for the beautiful family God has given me.

I’m thankful for my loving partner.

I’m thankful for all of the accepting and loving people in my life.

I’m thankful that laws are turning in favor of my family.

And I’m thankful to God for giving me all of these things.

Then Betty of the status update posted this response:

Hey [ohm], I’m annoyed when people use religion as an excuse to be hateful too, and thankful for the opportunity it occasionally presents me, as a darn othodox Catholic, to “represent.” I could go on and on about this since, one incident, at the Plaza of the Americas at UF, campus preachers stood spewing the some of the most hateful stuff I’d heard, confirming everything that the angry (yet curious) atheist in me believed about Christians. That day, I was really ready to walk away and never give Christians another chance. I’d had enough, heard enough, seen enough. I was done. Thankfully, also that day, one kid, a Methodist kid who is now a really close friend, stood up to them. He asked them “what’s the greatest commandment?” The woman replied, “Love God with all your heart, mind, and soul, and love your neighbor as yourself.” He stood up and loudly asked, “Does anyone here feel loved by this woman?” and proceeded to move, with his friends, through the crowd and quietly talk about the Bible, not being pushy, not being judgey. I kept my distance but listened. That moment was the thin end of a wedge for me, realizing that not all Christians are on a mission to condemn people, I was willing to listen. Of course, it still took eight more years for God to get through to me — ha ha. BUT that moment on the plaza is the reason I don’t hesitate to tell people I’m a Christian, but also why I remember what St. Francis says, “Preach the Gospel at all times, and when necessary, use words.” I’m thankful for you, my friend. :^)

 

And I responeded:

And I am glad for you, my dear orthodox Catholic friend, for loving me and God at the same time. 🙂 Kiss!

Homophobala has not responded.  I wish I could let go of this anger.  But I put so much of my heart into that girl.  She was one of my very best friends.  I constantly told her how smart and capable she was, since she had self-esteem issues.  I made her not skip class umpteen times.  I may be one of the only reasons she has a high school degree.  She was there when I converted to Judiasm.  I got to know each of her babies as they were born and got to watch her struggle with new motherhood.

Anybody have any advice about letting it go?  My honey says to just let it go.  Clearly it is deeper than that.  I think I’d feel better if I could punch her or something.

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Gay Gay Vacay

Oneofhismoms is on vacation.

A short one, yes.  But it is the first time my little family has gone somewhere alone and stayed in a hotel instead of with family or friends.

So here we are in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.  How very lovely.  I had heard it was gay friendly.  This morning, when Trucker got up at six am, I hauled it down to the Starbucks we’d seen when we arrived late last night for some caffeine.  Every single person who walked in was lesbian.  Except the one dude.  Of course now that I’ve been here for the day, I know there are plenty of straight families about.  It is a really interesting place.  I spent a summer living in Provincetown after college and I have to say, I kind of like it here a little more.  In P-town it was so very gay that the straight tourists tended to get a little uptight.  Which I don’t care about either way, but it was sort of a look-at-my-rainbow-flag-and-nipple-piercings-I’m-gay-gay-gay-damnit kind of scene.  Perhaps it has changed since then.  Also, when I lived there all of the lesbians pretty much had the same very short haircut.  I did not.  So if I dared to wear a skirt, I’d get hit on by every straight guy within a mile radius.  That said, I did love my time there.  But this place is different.  Mind you, I haven’t even been here for 24 hours yet, but it seems almost seamless.  Everybody just seems to be co-existing.  And having a good time.

It is nice for families, too.  The sidewalks, at least where we are, are very stroller-friendly.  The boardwalk is not up any steps.  It is even with the sidewalk and the beach.  So it just seems very easy.  The beach is not too deep (as in, not to long of a walk from the boardwalk to the sea.)  So it is fairly easy to haul all of our gear to the water’s edge for sandcastle fun.

I’ve been hoping to find a gay-friendly and family-friendly vacation place for a while.  And though this place does not have as much character as I used to crave before I had kids, it makes up for it in ease of … just ease I suppose.

Now one thing I forgot about when I planned this whole hotel bonanza is the fact that the kids go to sleep at seven and eight pm.  Wooo!  Partaaaay.  So I’m glad we have a room with a balcony.  At least I can watch the party from here.  And when I say watch the party I mean watch the party.  The biggest, loudest boy party night spot is less than 200 feet from this balcony and my sleeping boys.  Next time I’ll look for the word “quiet” in the hotel description.  For now, I’ve invested six bucks in some heavy-duty earplugs.

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Filed under baby gear, family, LGBT

Pride and Provinciality

A kind reader wrote me a note asking why I didn’t write about Brooklyn Pride.  I was there with my family and my extended gay parent family, it is true.

I guess I didn’t write about it for a good reason: Pride is fun, but no longer the highlight of my year.  What I mean is, I am lucky enough to live in a place where hanging out with the gaybies and their folks is not an unusual event.

Recently, as we were planning our summer vacation trip, we had the idea of going to Family Week in Provincetown.  It seemed fun, though a little hectic.  Upon thinking of it more, I realized that we don’t really need to go to it.  Our motive would be to have a nice vacation around a bunch of other gay families.  We are always around a bunch of other gay families.  So why drive eight hours and pay a grand?  Well, maybe when the boys are old enough to understand it, it might be worth the effort.

I remember when Chicory of the late great blog An Accident of Hope posted pictures from the Utah Pride family tent, which she helped organize.  It looked like a theme park.  There were so many people and so much to do.  Our tent was on such a smaller scale.  We had some yummy food and an arts and crafts table.  Cake made a monster puppet and taped a third eyeball on himself and called himself an “Eyeclops.” We had frisbees.  It was great.  It was enough.  We played on the grass while gay friends from different arenas showed up.  The familyo was there.  My lovely readers/friends from way uptown surprised me by stopping by with Trucker’s sassy little girlfriend in tow.  A bunch of families from that crazy lesbian mom gathering I’d hosted in February showed up.  There were also some gay dads there, one of whom claimed that his partner was Angelina Jolie’s stylist — upon googling when I got home, I found that her stylist is a woman, so maybe he was her stylist’s assistant or something. We had a great time.

I guess my point is, I’m happy I live here.  I’m happy that blowing bubbles in the park with other gay parents is not just a once-a-year event.  I’m really grateful for the folks who set up our little family tent and taped an extra eyeball on my kid;  for the drag queens who were performing for about five people on the stage a few hundred feet away; and for the kid-less dykes who played air guitar with Cakie.  I’m grateful and proud.

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Filed under family, LGBT, NYC What is it about you?

Two Week Wait Advent Calendar — Week Two

You are over the hump.

Now, of course, it is getting really hard to stop obsessing.  You keep going on line and searching for “early pregnancy signs.”  It keeps saying the same things.  Stop that.  Please.  Having symptoms isn’t going to make you any more or any less pregnant, my dear.  And honestly at this point, you probably would not really be feeling any of them.  Here’s a little something to keep your mind off things.  Or at least to try to keep your mind off things.  Mmmmmwwaah!

Day 8: You are more than half-way there.  Think outwardly.  Spend your waiting time helping out some other folks, why don’t you.

Open the door.

Day 9: This one is for your honey.  If you don’t have a partner (you, go SMBC!), this one is for whomever it is you’ve been obsessing to for the past nine days, or nine months, or nine years.

Open the door, oh most valuable friend and/or companion.

Day 10: Do not, I repeat, do NOT take a pregnancy test today.

This day has two options.  For those of you who want to think about babies and have some positive visualization, open this door.  For those of you who keep saying to yourselves, “Baby?  What baby?  I don’t know nothing about no possible baby.” Open this door.

Day 11: Step away from the pee stick.  I mean it. Go grocery shopping or something productive for goodness sakes.

Open the door.

If you are now, or in the future, planning on having a second child, (Hi, J!) open this door, then open this one.

Day 12:  You are so close.  Take a deep breath.

Open the door.

Day 13: For the love of all that is sane, give your pee sticks to a neighbor, or put them in a safe deposit box until tomorrow.

Open the door.

Day 14: I don’t know what to do here. Just go pee on the stick and tell me what it said.  I can’t wait any longer, either.

I hope hope hope the wait was worth it this time.  If it was not, I can say only this:  the single most important quality I have as a parent and educator is patience.  You are doing the work of cultivating a huge amount.  Keep trying.  I’ll make more of these calendars if I have to.  If you are pregnant, guess what you have to do now?  Wait some more.  But it is a happier waiting.  Though perhaps no less stressful.

Love you, oneofhismoms

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Filed under LGBT, TTC, Waiting and waiting and...