In upbeat news: I got my pregnancy organizer in the mail. Oh, what fun! It has lists, and boxes to check off. And more lists, and more boxes to check off. I love it. I had no idea such a product existed until we did our pregnancy book searches. Get ready for this, Maeby.
Today is the 2nd ultrasound with Dr. Quick (and the 3rd counting the one we had with Dr. Mellow). Fingers crossed for positive results.
I definitely need to get the book by that title (of this post).
I've been mulling this post over in my head for a few days, and was urged on to the computer by Charlotte's thoughts.
Through the whole TTC process, and even once we finally got Co knocked up, it never crossed my mind to worry about being the non-bio mom. Though I want to be pregnant, I also want very much to have a child that is a part of Co. I have no concerns about loving the baby, or feeling connected to it. I mean....look at how connected we both are to the dachshund (who, by the way, is adopted). On a more serious note, I've always known I could be comfortable with (human) adoption, we just have a preference for this way and so far it's worked (knock wood).
For purposes of clarification, when I use the words "Mom" and "Dad" throughout this post, I mean them in the most stereotypical/archetypical way. And probably I mean them as they have been informed by my own experience of a "Mom" and a "Dad." Obviously these roles have fluidity in our real lives.
I've had unexpected flashes, as we move slowly, superstitiously through the pregnancy, of fear and anxiety. As Charlotte indicated, it's really only as we interact with people outside of our relationship, and outside of our world. Co and all of our lesbian/honorary lesbian friends (both in and out of the blogosphere) treat me as I see myself: co-mom.
But, I am realizing, not everyone does. Co and I found out about "our" pregnancy first, so for a brief moment Co was the only preggie in the mah-jongg group (though by no means the only one trying). As such, we got to set the unspoken rules, and I was able to be the mom I see myself to be. But now that CF is pregnant, that's changed. She and Co are pregnant. The rest of us are not. There doesn't seem to be any middle ground. (Fortunately this has no effect on my passionate feelings for mah-jongg.)
I had a minor meltdown at the OB the other day. I was leafing through one of those "How Your Baby Grows" pamphlets and showing Co pix of the little tadpoles. She snapped at me to stop (apparently they were grossing her out and she was nauseated; I thought the tadpoles were cute). I admit that I was being gross when I tried to tell her what amniotic fluid is made of* but I didn't realize she was feeling sick. She whispered that she was trying not to puke, so I offered her the Preggie Pop in my pocket and kept my factoids to myself. Shortly after this interaction, she moved to sit next to CF and the two of them started whispering and giggling obviously, but inaudibly (to me). CF's husband was doing a crossword puzzle. I finally went out to do some errands (no problem due to the whole late-because-delivering-a-baby thing) so I would be blubbering on Big Avenue rather than in the tiny office. (There was more to this decision on Co's part that can't be blogged, but the point is, I was hurt.)
That same day CF said her hubby and I should start a club. And again, the sting: I am the one who did the research, made the phone calls and appointments from sperm bank to midwives, mulled over all the decisions, read and Googled so much I at times know more than Co about conception and pregnancy. Certainly I don't share that with hubby. Yet at the end of the day, that's his biological baby. I don't share that with him, either. So that made me want to cry, too.
Co reminds me that in terms of my own behavior, she (Co) did motion to me to come sit with her when she moved to sit with CF. But by then I was Hurt, and therefore Sulking, so I did not. And by the time I needed to get out of the office to do my errands, CF and her hubby were off having lunch, so I left Co alone in the waiting room. I can definitely be a brat.
My sister enthusiastically IM-ed Co after we got the first ultrasound to congratulate her, even though I was on IM as well. Co said something like "yeah, congratulations to both of us" and my sister said "You're the one who's pregnant!" Yeah. Thanks for the reminder, Easily Fertile Sib.
I do believe that I occupy an unfamiliar space, at least to heterosexuals. I am not a dad, I'm a second mom. Perhaps the closest existing (heterosexual) category is stepmother, which is fraught with its own issues. When one couple we know had a baby, a mutual friend of ours said (of the non-bio parent) "She's a dad!" At first I thought that was a weird thing to say but then I realized it's kind of true, in this friend's case. She's not the biological parent and her role is more like my own dad's was (I mean this in a good way, my dad's role in my life having been complicated to say the least), in that there's no question who the "mom" is. I've seen this in other queer relationships, and there's nothing wrong with it. There are lesbian "moms" who don't want to be called Mom, or any facsimilie thereof. That's an easier dynamic to understand from the outside.
But I am no lesbian dad. If anything, my stoic, athletic, sports-watching Co will be the "dad." I am all mom, all the time, from the time I adopted my C*bb*ge Patch Kid (which I did legally, I sent away for the certificate and everything) through my adoption of the infant-sized Maggie Mae. I won't mind not being the "boobie mama" (thanks to Charlotte for the term) this time around but I am going to have to make clear, I guess, that today, at 7 weeks 1 day, I am the mama, and I always will be.
More food for thought on this subject can be found here.
*Amniotic fluid is mostly made up of fetal pee. Well, you read the note!