Our First Appointment

We had our first appointment at the Center for Reproductive Medicine in Lake Mary yesterday. We were referred there by a lesbian couple who, by the way, are now happily pregnant after only three inseminations (IUI's).

Both D and I were incredibly nervous, having no idea what to expect. As a result, we growled at each other the night before, the morning of, and even on the car ride there. I felt a little like I was waiting for a job interview as I turned magazine pages (not because I was actually reading anything but rather because it kept my hands busily occupied) in the waiting room. And I couldn't help but eye the couples, looking equally uncomfortable, sitting in the seats surrounding us. All the men seemed to have their eyes glued to the Nancy Grace sound-a-like prattling on about Tiger Woods and his many sexual faux pas. The women were busily reading leaflets and articles about financing IVF procedures. D and I, as is normal for us, stood out like a stain on white linoleum, but nobody seemed to notice -- a pleasant surprise. We were unusually early (that's because of me for those of you that don't know us) so we had plenty of time to read through magazines and grow more nervous.

When D and I were finally waiting in Dr. Jaffe's office, D said that she felt a like we were waiting to sign mortgage papers rather than waiting to discuss baby-making. Staring at the fake wood desk in front of me and the Rothko knock off paintings to my right and left, I had to agree.

We both really liked Dr. Jaffe. She was warm (as was the staff), extremely knowledgeable, and patient. And she apparently is a chocolate addict (we watched her steal ample chocolates from what appeared to be a nurse's box of candies in between appointments). I made a mental note to buy her chocolates if we ever get pregnant.

Our appointment began with first a nurse and then Dr. Jaffe firing a series of questions at D about her medical and sexual history, etc., while I tried to look like I was supposed to be there -- in other words, I very consciously nodded and smiled at what I thought were the appropriate times. D is so thoughtful that she turned to me several times to ask if I had any questions. I could tell she was making the gesture to try to include me, which made me love her all the more.

After the third degree, D was ushered into another room where Dr. Jaffe conducted an ultrasound examination of her reproductive organs. Although I was invited, I wasn't there at the time because D and I decided that it would be inappropriate for me to stay during the procedure. So I waited outside by the nurses' station where I ironically watched daughters accompany their mothers and male partners accompany their spouses or girlfriends into the various exam rooms. D told me after that Dr. Jaffe had mentioned something about a cyst and what might be a small fibroid, but "there was nothing to worry about." Of course we're worrying.

Then blood was drawn -- five or six vials. I asked if they left any for D, to which the vampire nurse smiled. The blood tests will determine hormone levels, etc., from which they can extrapolate information about D's ovulation and the quality of her eggs. We were handed a zillion pieces of literature on everything from the pros and cons of hormone treatment to the ins and outs of shopping at sperm banks (definitely not bedside reading). We were informed of the FDA requirement that we schedule a consult with a counselor -- some sort of psychiatric evaluation. We were also told to call the facility when D next gets her menstrual cycle (this should be in a few days), at which time they will schedule an HSG test (a dye test to see if her fallopian tubes are open). I never thought I'd be counting down the days to a fallopian tube test, but I am...

Hopefully, we'll have test results at our next appointment and know more definitively our chances for getting pregnant. Sorry about the unusually clinical nature of this posting, but I think I'm still recovering from handing boxes of Kleenex to teary-eyed apologetic eighteen-year-old plagiarists while still trying to retain my strict superintendent glare(ah, the last week of the semester -- what joy!).

Making Sense of the Charley Brown Adult Talk

Robert, the lawyer, gave me some clarification:

1. If the Florida Appellate Court upholds the adoptions which were previously granted in Dade County, we can prosecute a co-parent adoption here (in FL).
2. We can see if Dade County will hear our co-parent adoption even pending the appellate opinion (this option will likely be costly).
3. We can go to a state which accepts non-resident adoptions and prosecute the co-parent adoption there (this sounds like the best option for us).
4. We could get married in a state that allows gay marriage, give birth in that state, and have both of us listed on the birth certificate (not likely).

By the way, or as my students would say "BTW," I just started reading Harlyn Aizley's Confessions of the Other Mother (about nonbiological lesbian moms) and it has prompted this new swirl of concerns. For example, what am I going to be called? Will I be Mommy S? Momma? Maybe I should just wait and see what our child comes up with. : )

Choosing Pizza Toppings, I mean, Sperm Donor Traits

Surprisingly, Robert, the lawyer I met with on Friday, was not bald, nor was he poorly outfitted. He also seemed very knowledgeable. I inquired about developing a co-parenting agreement, and he explained that the document has absolutely no legal value. In other words, it wouldn't really do us any good except to decrease what little money we're saving for the baby. He did present a number of other options though. First, D and I could get married in a state in which gay marriage is legal (assuming we get up on the right day of the week and pick a state where the law doesn't change every half hour); this would somehow affect the child's status. Second, we could complete an out-of-state adoption after the child is born. He explained that he can refer us to an adoption attorney in Washington for this. I'm still a little unsure of how both of these options work so I sent an email to Robert yesterday asking for clarification. I think I might have been so excited by the thought that it's possible for me to legally adopt our child that the rest became little more than adult talk on Charley Brown:  "Wa-wa-wa..." 

In terms of the donor agreement, it seems that unfortunately we won't be needing one of those. Our known donor has decided that he can't commit to our plan for fear that he'll become more attached to the child than he would intend to be. While this may sound like a serious setback, it actually feels sort of freeing. Our friend will still be known as an "uncle" to our child and will still be in his or her life, but we won't fear that he'll want more than we're willing to give. Honestly, too, I think I worried that I would feel a bit like an outsider because of having the biological father in our lives. D and I went on the California Cryobank website and did some preliminary searches.

Choosing a donor is surprisingly a little like choosing pizza toppings. Let's see, we want a donor with at least a Master's degree -- check -- but not in something geeky like molecular biology or engineering... We can choose each item -- hair color, hair type, skin tone, ethnicity, level of education, Keirsey personality type, facial features, etc. And we can even read an essay written by the donor (D has already warned me that a misused apostrophe is not necessarily cause for elimination). And each donor's description is something corny like "easy-going adventurer" or "cool chemist." I imagine our future child asking about his or her father and my answer being "Your father was a cool chemist, honey." Ha! What's really interesting is since each donor is anonymous, there are no actual pictures (only baby pictures and drawings of the adult man's face) but the donor's appearance is described in terms of what celebrity or celebrities he most resembles.  "Look, Sweetie, there's your donor daddy, Brad Pitt!"


Our first appointment at the fertility clinic is in two weeks -- April 28th. It seems like time couldn't move any slower! D is busy calculating when we have to inseminate to produce a baby in her preferred zodiac signs, and I'm already figuring out what teaching load I should request for spring and summer of 2011, hopeful that we'll have a newborn around then. We'll update the blog when we definitively choose our toppings -- I mean donors. : )

The Dangers of Obsessing about Babies while Jogging

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I realized last night that my partner and I can barely watch a full thirty minute episode of a favorite TV show -- in this case, Nurse Jackie, without one of us expressing a concern containing the phrase "What if?" about some aspect of the process. When did we transform into these weirdly obsessive people? And really, if we're unable to have children, we'll be exactly who we are now -- and that's not cause for alarm or a nervous breakdown, right?

 I was jogging this morning, which I should mention is usually a zen-like activity for me, and found that my mind was as un-zen-like as it could possibly be. All at once I was calculating the cost of fertility drugs, worrying about the temperature of our water tank (I just read that to baby-proof one's house, the water tank has to be set to 120 degrees or less), and wondering if the YMCA has a prenatal yoga program.  It's a wonder I didn't run into a car or the side of a house!

I always knew that parents, by definition, are in a constant state of worry, for some even panic, but I hadn't realized that the worrying starts with just an idea of a child of one's own.

A famous Zen proverb is “When walking, walk. When eating, eat.” I could do well to follow this advice. It'll save me from having to wear a helmet while jogging. 

Lawyer Up!

In a hetero relationship, baby-making generally begins with something romantic -- perhaps the fixing of an elaborate dinner complete with candlelight and soft music. At the very least, straight baby-making begins with mutual attraction. Certainly, D's and my relationship began this way, but we're finding that the lesbian baby-making process has a very different start.

I've begun reading up on the process, and I've found Rachel Pepper's The Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians: How to Stay Sane and Care for Yourself from Pre-conception Through Birth to be especially helpful. See the side bar for a link to the book on Amazon.com.  Pepper, as well as countless experts on the Internet, recommend that lesbian couples considering conception begin the process by seeking legal advice from a qualified attorney who specializes in custody and reproduction. Such a consultation with a lawyer can become invaluable in states, like ours, in which second-parent adoption is not yet legal for gays and lesbians.  As the non-birth mother, it is exceedingly important to me that I do everything I can to ensure that my relationship with my child is documented and that our known donor's role is clearly articulated. In states like Florida that still cling to homophobic laws, lesbian parents must be sure to develop a co-parenting agreement as well as a donor agreement (if the donor is known). I've read on the Human Rights Campaign website (see link in the sidebar) that these documents may not be upheld in court, but developing such documents is still the best option for securing the non birth parent's legal protections. 

So, this Friday I've scheduled a phone consultation with a custody attorney and a face-to-face meeting with an attorney who specializes in reproduction. For those of you following this blog because you're considering parenting too, I found that the local gay and lesbian center was the best place to find referrals to both gay-friendly attorneys and gay-friendly fertility clinics.

Sadly, there's no candle-lit dinner for D and me; rather, our baby-making process will begin with a formal discussion about legal documents with a (likely) balding man in a poorly fitting suit. Ah, the romance!   

The Beginning

April 5, 2010

My partner, D., and I have done what so many lesbians in their thirties do -- we've fallen in love with our imaginary family. We've imagined how adorable the signature on our Christmas cards would be with an extra name tacked on to our own and those of our canine kids. We've even imagined how to decorate the imaginary room that will house the imaginary addition to the family, and we've begun to save imaginary money for imaginary college. I can't speak for D., but I'm ashamed to say that I downloaded several baby name apps on my phone and have begun searching for deals for diapers for the imaginary tyke when I have a free moment at work. In effect, the hands of our biological clocks have begun turning so quickly that they've taken flight. And so, we're off...

We plan to use this blog site to document our journey to make our imaginings reality. Please feel welcome to check in to see how our family garden is fairing.