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We’re up in our office like we dreamed we’d be this time last year - my wife, Kim Warner, our son Hudson, and me, Anna Warner. We used to say to each other, “We’ll be working up here, honey, just like we are now, and there will be a little baby next to us filling this swing chair and basinet!” And here he is...he’s in the basinet just waking up. We’re now the two American gay moms of a little Viking baby. Our donor is a Dane whom we’ve never met, but found his stellar profile on a European Cryobank website.
We actually got pregnant really easy in May 2007, after having had an already charmed relationship over the past four years. I’m sharing these details, as I was looking for them in other people’s gay stories. In fact, a mentor of mine suggested that we begin seeking out other gay parents, in order to find similar experiences that we could eventually relate. But no matter what parents share with you, no one can convey the amount or type of love your own baby brings to you and your partner. It is WONDERFUL, but Kim and I had actually gone back and forth on whether or not we had wanted to take this path.
After crying at the warmth we felt online from this Euro-sperm bank, we placed our online order for the first donor...a Hugo Boss model! And I breathed a sigh of relief, but began picturing how I was going to explain to our child that I had chosen his donor from such vain motives. So, we scrolled through our daddy options again, narrowing them down to donors who had left either a picture or letter (to offer to our child later in their life). We chose a new donor, a writer who left a mildly explanatory hand-written letter to our angel to be!
We were unable to get pregnant for over two months. But by the fourth month, we got more seious as we began our online shopping, buying syringes and speculums. We took my temperature, observed my ovulation, and per our Fertility doctor’s suggestion, Kim inseminated me at home. Actually, we paid our Fertility specialist to tell us we should inseminate at home for six months prior to doctors intervening; a GREAT suggestion that saved us any unnecessary future expenses and outside interference.
A trip to Rite Aid for a pregnancy test, and BAM! This time, we were PREGNANT! (Even our pregnancy was charmed!) I took ZERO classes, and read a smidgen’ of “What to Expect when Expecting”. I wanted as little information as possible, as far as where we “should” be, or what I “should” feel...I stayed out of fear much easier with less information! On the other hand, my partner insisted on telling me about all the fatal dangers of cantaloupe, chords around babies’ necks, C-sections, blood pressure, etc... I gently requested that she allow me to live in blind naiveté for nine months. As a result, I stayed in much peace and serenity, until they raised the sheet before my chin at the c-section.
There’s so much more to relay. So much more to our story - like how our parents each individually fell in love with Hudson, regardless of their worries, their prejudices, and opinions surrounding gay parenting. Like, how at the end of a few months of family therapy for my parents and I, I blurted at the last session, “And, we’re (my lesbian partner and I-the main theme of therapy) gonna have a baby!” Like how EVERY song about children or kids makes us cry now. We’re learning so much, like how I’m the booby mom, and how Kim is the bath mommy, and how special roles are so important. We’re still working out our new relationship, one that involves a lot less sleep and a lot more diapers.
As far as being gay mommies in society...we haven’t really experienced any foreseeable discrimination, yet. We haven’t had the opportunity to be snubbed by classroom parents or t-ball coaches. But the fear that our son could be hurt is very real for us now. I look into his gorgeous blue eyes and tear up, thinking that he could possibly resent us one day, wondering where his daddy is. But the wonderfully true advice I’ve been given by several other exemplary parents is that there isn’t a child in the world who has escaped pain on this earth, no matter their parental situation.
Hudson may also feel complete and whole with us two super mommies, otherwise known as “Mama” and “Mommy”. We’re all learning together, and we know things are pretty great when he cracks one of his killer smiles at us (I’m so happy he inherited my dimples!!). We’re throwing on his t-shirt that reads, “Made in America with Scandinavian Parts,” and we’re off for a walk, one of our newer joys.