“Giving birth was like a dream!”
“I was so calm in the birthing tub, the room was ethereal.”
Bullshit. I’m sorry, but I’m calling bullshit. I’m glad that Nicole Richie only pushed for 10 minutes before her daughter plopped into the doctor’s hands. Terrific. Happy to hear it.
Side note: Harlow is a cute effin’ baby.
But I’m not that lucky. I get choked up at the gyno because I can’t handle the expansion of the speculum. There’s not a lot of room down there so even the tiniest 6 pound baby doesn’t sound like a walk in the park. If I could get a Josie Duggar – you know, without all the health complications and fear for her life – but like a nice little 1.5 or 2 lb peanut. I think my snatch could probably handle something that size. Anything bigger and it’s gonna get ugly down there.
A perfect way to avoid all the fear of labor and delivery would be to adopt. Plus, all the kids caught up in the foster care system really pull at my heart strings. Meredith has always wanted to adopt. But as little as I know about getting pregnant and all the logistics that come with getting a lesbian knocked up, I’m even more unfamiliar with the process of adoption. It’s probably something I’ll look into more after we’ve given birth to our first kid (hopefully). But for now there are two things that scare me about adoption.
1. An unfair gay disadvantage. The rest of the world has already told us: ‘go shop elsewhere. We don’t adopt to your kind.’ So the days of lesbian moms toting Asian babies are practically gone. Was that a 90s fad? It doesn’t matter. It’s a dead dream. So we’re left to adopt within the US (and maybe Canada. I’m not sure, eh?), which is great. I’m just not sure how much more difficult the process becomes if you’re adopting as Mom 1 and Mom 2 instead of Mom and Dad. According to information found on the HRC website, the jury is out on a lot of these restrictions. So it’s not like we’re being discriminated hands down. It’s just that states are deciding to discriminate on a case-by-case basis. The HRC published the following article on joint adoption back in April:
2. Broken children. I blame my parents for this next drawback I’ve developed towards adopting children. There are three things I remember concretely that we watched as a family: The Cosby Show, White Christmas, and some creepy movie about a pastor and his wife who take in two foster children. When I consulted my youngest sister on this last memory, she suggested it could have been a James Dobson original picture. I have no recollection of the movie title or most of the plot. So my Googling efforts to track it down were all in vain. But from what I can remember of this film, I can’t figure out why my parents would have chosen a family screening. The pastor and his wife decide to take in two small children: brother and sister. The girl turns out to be damaged from a life in foster care, and in just one scene has scarred me for life. She takes a straight pin, hidden beneath a mattress and stabs the family dog. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
It’s possible Meredith and I will explore our options for adoption eventually. But for now, I continue to face my fears and test the limits of my v hole. Onward and upward.