Today is the first doctor’s appointment for me and Mommy B. The first step in a (long) process that will (we hope) end with a screaming, squalling baby.
Why are we doing this again?
About a year ago, or more like 9 months, that ridiculous, stereotypical woman about to turn 30 thing happened to me – I went baby crazy. Mommy B calls it broody, but really, I feel like crazy has to be included in whatever description we choose. All of a sudden, I went from liking kids and thinking maybe someday we should have one, to being utterly convinced that I needed a baby. Right. Now.
Luckily, we didn’t let the crazy win. We looked at the financials. The practicalities. And we made a tentative plan. Either in September or January, I will be getting some sperm stuck up my hoo-hah and attempting to “fall pregnant” as they call it here in the UK (I like that expression. Like I slipped, fell, and landed on a foetus).
Mommy B and I are lucky – we live in a part of the UK where we get access to three tries at artificial insemination for free, through the NHS – we just need to buy the sperm. So today’s doctor’s appointment is to get that ball rolling, to get on whatever waiting lists need getting on, and ask as many questions as we can think of.
I mean, if it were up to me, I would get pregnant tomorrow. But when you’re a lesbian, that’s not really how it works, and anyway I think Mommy B’s head might explode (she’s not quite as READY as I am). So at least we’re getting started!