I’ve been thinking abou the name I gave myself on this blog, after being reminded of the importance of nomenclature by Lesbian Dad’s featuring in the Advocate (not to mention I’m in Iceland hearing about the settlement of Greenland, yet another example of the importance of names).
It’s a bit presumptuous of me I guess, already sticking mom in my name. I mean, we haven’t even had our first appointment with the fertility doctors yet. But I guess, the thing is, I already feel like I’m on my way. I know it might not work – with (straight) friends who’ve had loads of trouble, we are all too aware of success rates and statistics.
But the thing is, if it doesn’t work, we have a plan. We are going to adopt. B is not up for being pregnant (which I understand – scary!), so if I can’t get pregnant, maybe within our 3 free tries, maybe we’ll fund a couple tries ourselves, but we’re not going to continue past the point of our own happiness.
And if we can’t do it – we’re going to adopt. The order of this plan needs a bit of explanation
Originally, we wanted to adopt rather than try IUI. Neither of us was wild about the whole pregnancy/shooting a watermelon through a carrot-sized tube thing. But two things happened.
First, I went through the crazy, stereotypical, ridiculous thing of a woman approaching thirty where I suddenly was desperate, DESPERATE to have a baby. Clearly my hormones were involved, and they suggested it be a baby that came through the carrot tube, they suggested it emphatically.
The other thing was, we looked quite seriously at adoption. In the UK, adoption is very different than in the US I learned. Among other things, it’s not just difficult, it is near impossible to get an infant or even a child under 2. I think this is because teen moms are not encouraged to consider adoption as an option, and the rights of the parents are prized (imo) over the rights of the child, but that is really just a guess.
Also, (and this is no different than the US I’m sure), the levels of investigation and judgement that you have to go through to qualify as an adoptive parent are hugely intimidating. Friends of ours have been going through it, and apparently the council asks loads of questions about your parents’ parenting, and judge you based on that – which, given various things in my and B’s childhoods, we definitely worry about. Basically, my anxiety means that this sort of a judging experience would be really, really difficult for me. So – we try the other way first.
But we’re both determined to be parents, one way or another, so I’m going to give myself a pass on my presumptuous blog name.