One Year Ago Today...

On this day, a year ago, Amy and I took an irreversible step on our journey to parenthood.  After many discussions, meditations, prayers, and even silences, we had come to the conclusion that she would be handing the baby holding reigns over to me.  It was a huge sacrifice on her part, and I will always be grateful to her.
So on this day last year, we went to the Doctor's office, and long story short, we made the first attempt at getting my body pregnant.  I will never forget how scared I was...  Because I am a member of what some may call in lesbian-speak (again, not a lesbian... but down with the jargon) in the gold-star club.  So in simple, biological terms this means that I was officially a sperm-free zone... and that was about to change.  I had also spent a very long time ignoring that I had biologically female sex organs, and up until about 7 days before had never been to the OBGYN... by the time the 23rd rolled around, I had been pap-smeared, poked, prodded and probed,  and given a shot in the butt to get ovulation timing correctly.  So I was beginning to feel like my "girl parts" had become a side-show (this particular office was an on-call office, meaning you saw who was there... so 3 appointments, meant 3 different audiences to my downstairs...)
Due to some unfortunate work circumstances, immediately after the appointment (yeah, the one I was sure would be traumatizing and need several hours of debrief), I had to drive for 2 hours to do a 2 night overnight work trip.  I don't know if it has come through in previous posts, but Amy and I are VERY close...  maybe some would say unhealthy close.  Some days, it is really hard to get out of bed to go to work because the snuggles are JUST. THAT. GOOD.  Anyways, she is my safe space, and my home, and I never like being away from her, but I figured this would be excruciating.  I went to sleep away camp my whole childhood (starting in 2nd grade) and never felt homesickness until the first business trip I took away from my wife (lame... I know.) 

This is my rainbow.... as I rode out of town.  I have
often wondered if it showed up, just because it
made a great plot device in a story....

So anyways, as I am riding out of Columbus, after the world's most uncomfortable appointment, in which I feel like I had crossed an irreversible line that I never planned on crossing, and then had to leave the only person that felt like a safe space, there was a perfect rainbow.  (Please see footnote about rainbows... are blogs supposed to have foot notes?  Well.. this one does)
 Now, this blog is certainly not about religion... but let me tell you, in that moment, I knew that in someway, someday, everything was going to work out.  Now... I wish it had been an omen for that moment, and that attempt...  and of course it wasn't, because then we would already have a baby.
So here we are, one year later, almost 5 months pregnant, planning doula appointments, thinking about registries, knitting blankets (well... I don't knit, but Amy does) and reflecting on how we got here.  The world is so strange, and scary... but some days it just makes sense.  In that moment, with that rainbow, there was a certain amount of clarity... although completely muddied by own expectations.




Rainbow Footnote:  I love rainbows...  I love them because they are a naturally occurring bit of magic.  There is not other perfect color scheme where one color leads to perfectly into another with blending and shades in between!  They are also scientifically amazing (I teach kids about rainbows, so I know a thing or two about refraction and prisms)...  But the whole gay pride rainbow has REALLY gotten in the way of my love of rainbows.  NOT EVERY RAINBOW IS ABOUT BEING GAY!!  Sometimes I want kids to make a rainbow craft, because it is, AGAIN, the most wonderful color scheme, and then I have to second guess myself, because I don't want people to think that I am trying to trick their kids into queerness by a slip of the spectrum into one project or another.
So... I love that rainbows are a sign of pride, but I hate that I feel like I can't use them everywhere I want because it may get me into trouble!

Coming Out as Pregnant... Or Trans... Or Both....

Telling people you are pregnant is really exciting... Especially the people who didn't see it coming!  But every time we tell someone, there is a bit of a fear of the reaction....  Not all of these responses have happened directly to us, BUT, just because they haven't happened, doesn't mean we don't have a fear that they will....

So lets discuss...

1.  Who is the Mom?, Who's having the baby? and Who's knocked up?
More often than not people are asking who is pregnant...  which is not what all of these questions represent to us as queer parents. 

Who is the Mom? can be answered with: Amy is the Mom.  She has chosen Mommy, Mama, Momma to be her parental moniker... I have chosen something else, which I will discuss is a later blog entry:  Becoming Baba. 

Who's having the baby?  This doesn't mean what it seems either.  Because AMY AND I are having a baby.  We have been on the same page about this since day 1, we have both been at every appointment, we make joint decisions, etc.  So the answer to this is WE are having the baby.

Who's knocked up?  I just wanted to add this one because I find this phrase so offensive...  No one should be using the phrase knocked up.  A quick search of etymology reveals that this term comes from brothels in the 16th century, which were called "Knocking Houses".  Yuck.... Not the same as my experience friends... not the same.  Want more info? Click here.

But the fundamental issue with all of these questions:  Who is pregnant? is a deep and emotional one.

Well... if you must know...  I am carrying the baby.  But I am okay with saying WE are pregnant.  Amy has done just as much work as I have.  When I am sick, she is taking over my household responsibilities... When I am tired, she is there to make sure I am comfortable... When I need a Snickers Bar and a Gatorade, she will happily retrieve them.  So while I may be the "acting baby house" for 9 months, that in no way makes me more of a parent.  If anything, Amy has taken on way more responsibility than I have.  I mean, puking certainly isn't comfortable, but I would rather puke for 15 minutes than do all the laundry, all the house work, make the bed, do the dishes, etc...  And I get to take more naps than usual...  So I definitely don't feel like I should be given any more medals than my wife, for what I am doing.

Of course people are going to be curious about this.... and maybe I am more guarded about it because I don't want there to be any doubt that Amy is as much of this kiddos parents as I am.  We live in a shitty time (although getting quickly less shitty) and all these questions about being biological related on top of living in a state (and working for an organization) that doesn't appropriately recognize our family structure makes it really hard to want to be forthcoming about who the biological parent is.  This makes it very hard to swallow when this is one of the first questions we are asked.  We are open to answering this... with the right timing, and the right audience.  But, I don't feel the need to discuss who's "knocked up" with the person that I sat in front of in biology class, who cheated off my tests and chewed tobacco during lectures.

2.  How did THAT happen?

Okay... I get it.  You have questions...  Well I do to.  Remember: the way we make our babies is very different from the majority of the population BUT I have just as many questions of my friends who make their babies in the privacy of their home.  I think making babies by having sex is weird.  That is weird to me... BECAUSE that is not my life experience.  You may think making a baby in a Doctor's office, or with a needless syringe after visiting the sperm bank is weird... BECAUSE that is not YOUR life experience. 

Lets just face it... making babies and growing them in our bodies is weird.  Of course it is natural... but so is people who can flip up their eye-lids. And there are people out there who don't think it weird, and I respect that totally!  I just think it is bizarre (and not bizarre gross, but bizarre fascinating!). 

The point being... lets celebrate first... and then I would be happy to talk to you (in whatever detail I am comfortable with) about our baby making experience.  My first question to a bio male/ bio female couple would never be: so, was this planned or an accident?  Was there foreplay?  That's inappropriate... And you asking me about any and all procedures involving our private parts is inappropriate as well.

3.  Who is the Dad?

YIKES!!!!!!  Simple mistake... you are asking (hopefully) about the donor.  If you took High School Biology, you should know, it takes vital ingredients to make a baby... and in our household, we only have one.  So OF COURSE we had to acquire said missing ingredient.  This is not always the most comfortable thing to talk about it either... because it means that one of us, will not be biologically related to our child... and, that kids, is a fact of life.  No way around it (for now...)  But we know this, and have dealt with it, and talked it through, and gotten to a place of mutual understanding.  But when the capital D(ad) word comes up... it stings a little. 

We will answer questions about the donor for close friends and family... but to the general public, just know that we picked a great person from an EBay like menu, and are happy with our choice... AND YES, they have been screened for diseases...

4.  Is this really a good time?

This is not one we have heard... but it is one that I fear.  It is never a good time to have a child...  I mean, if someone said: would you like something that cuts your income in half, keeps you up at night, could possibly turn out poorly if you do something wrong AND poops on itself?  The answer would be a resounding no.  There is never enough time or money to be a parent... until you are one.  Just because we got to (or "had to" as I see it) plan out when we would try to have kids, doesn't mean that anyone gets to judge our decision.

THE ULTIMATE NO-NO

I think there are many pregnant people that would agree... they don't want people touching them... especially in a growing belly that isn't always comfortable.  I generally don't like to be touched AT ALL and as my body grows and changes, I think this will become even more important.  If I want you to touch my baby gut, I assure you, you will be invited to do so.  Until you are invited, please stay out.

But this problem is deeper than that.  Amy is very feminine...  She likes skirts, dresses, makeup and (what I would call) unreasonable shoes.  So in the paradigm of procreating people, she is the pregnant one, right?   I mean... I wear the ties and the pants (not the metaphorical pants, the real ones) so it is fairly obvious that the more feminine of the two of us is carrying the child.   And we are aware that this will be the assumption, and once the baby is here, I am more than happy for people to think that Amy carried the little munchkin.  Its cute when people ask Amy how she is feeling, and she gets to say "I feel great, but Chris spends most mornings draped over the toilet."  What is not cute is when that assumption turns into an inappropriate belly pat on my non-physically pregnant wife's tummy.  Its like a bad episode of "Let's Make a Deal" where you have CLEARLY chosen poorly as to which curtain you should look behind.

So my overall advice, keep the belly pats to yourself, unless invited... and ESPECIALLY if you aren't sure which belly the baby is in.

MY INTENTIONS...

So like I have already covered... it was never my intention to be pregnant... and then it was not my intention for anyone to know that I was carrying the baby (which I would still like to maintain a shred of amniotic anonymity).  There is an awful lot of biological parent privilege... or "Mommy privilege" that I just don't want.  I don't need the comfiest chair, I don't need the first helping of food, and I certainly don't need anyone telling me to not pick up anything that weighs more than 15 pounds (I have done my research and our midwives have told us nothing over 50 pounds... which is not something I pick up on a routine basis anyways)... and I don't want people to assume that I am any more of the parent to this child than Amy....

Then I decided I did want to share my journey, with a select audience...  People who may be interested, people who are thinking about possibly being in our position someday, or people who maybe have an understanding of some of the issues that have arisen and will continue to arise throughout this process.  I have put together a very carefully crafted group on Facebook to share the journey with... (so that means if you see this in a status update, that you were specifically chosen... congrats!). 

So, I am finally ready to come out as a Pregnant Boi...  I am the one who is currently acting as the baby's housing unit.  And I am not a woman.  I don't want to be called Mama (I have yet to find the perfect way to address this with people, especially medical personnel.), and I don't want to be treated like I am breakable.  I just want to keep being me, and not be shoved into a whole other category of people that I don't necessarily feel I belong with.

Pregnant Boi's Pregnant Introduction

Here is my last picture before becoming the pregnant boi.  I don't know why I snapped this on the way to the
Docs office that day, but I think it is kind of special.

Hello,
I am the pregnant boi.   Or in people first language, the boi who is pregnant...  but most people call me Chris.  There are a lot of different ways that I could describe how we got to this point, but it is a long and complicated story, with lots of plot twists, anti-climaxes, semi-climaxes and other types of plot driven narrative devices... But alas, this specific blog isn't about BECOMING a pregnant boi, as much as it is BEING a pregnant boi.  But since becoming pregnant is an important part of being pregnant, I will outline the important facts of the matter in a bulleted list.

• I have a wonderful wife, Amy, who supports me and loves me and wants nothing more than to raise a family together.  We started plotting how to have kids before our second official date... and not in a lesbian joke punch line type of way (which wouldn't really fit because neither of us identify as lesbians... again, another story entirely...), but in a "we fit together well enough that we could imagine bringing up a small portion of the next generation together" way.  I must also mention that we had known each other for a total of 4 years before that second date.  Kind of like two puzzle pieces that have always gone together, but were stuck at opposite ends of the puzzle table, and then when you put them next to each other, it is obvious they should have been together all along...  I could go on and say more romantic stuff all day, but I will spare you...  Long story short... no one really had to convince us that having kids was for us... it was kind of inevitable.
• Being pregnant was never in the plan for me.  I may spend some of my time explaining more about this... but simply put, I never had an overwhelming desire to carry a child.  Maybe gender politics had something to do with it, or the fact that child birth never seemed like something I could (or wanted) to handle...  But anyways, through our process of BECOMING pregnant, there were different things that popped up that led us in this direction...  Amy will carry a child some day... it IS something that she has always wanted.  But because of circumstances beyond our control (dumb insurance policies, poor doctors communications, maternity leave issues, among other things that could lead me into a full on soap-box rant, etc.) I ended up in the saddle, or maybe I should say stirrups....
• It took us a long time to get pregnant.  We wanted to be that couple who visited a doctor once, and took a home pregnancy test, and never looked back, but that wasn't in the cards.  It took us 10 tries over the course of 1 year and a quarter, which is draining physically, emotionally, financially, spiritually and many other -ally's.  The process vastly changed my outlook on life, and what sacrifice really means.  It also means that this baby will always be one that was fought for.  Throughout the whole process, there was one thing that didn't change... and that the fact that, no matter, we would be parents.
• But what this blog is really about is, I'm not a woman, or a man, or boy or girl.  I have adopted the title of Boi, because that feels most comfortable.  Obviously, to become pregnant one has to have female sexual organs: and that I do.  But that is one of the only things that is uncomplicatedly female about me.  I love who I am, and it has taken me a long time to get here.  I feel like I have finally reached a place in my life, where I can just be me and do what I want without someone telling me I can or can't do that because I am a boy or a girl.  In political terms, I would say, I am an independent, but usually caucus with the males.  Practical examples:  Showers (baby, bridal or otherwise) are not my thing... so we have a tradition that during these events I go to hang out with the boys.  However, I am also a sucker for pedicures, shopping and interior design (now on the stereotypes scales these could make me female, or a gay male...) and my love for color and flamboyance often has me thrown in with dandies.  So to sum it all up... I am just me... (except for the parts of me that, not unlike any other human being, wants to fit in, which we will also discuss ad nauseum.)

Loving this book.  You should read it too! 

So...  I am sure I am forgetting something... and will fill in the cracks later.  I just needed to start writing, or it was never going to happen.  When I first decided to become a pregnant boi, I looked all over for information about what this "condition" was really like...  My searches mostly turned up blanks...  You can find tons of articles on how to keep wearing high heels throughout your pregnancy, but there wasn't a lot of information on how to avoid switching out my fruit of the loom tighty whities for maternity underwear (which I didn't even know was a thing...).  I did find a great comic book called "Pregnant Butch" by AK Summers and I am currently winding my way through that amazing piece of literature.... and I am sure I could find something academically written somewhere about the queering of pregnancy, this and that.... but I am not looking for academics here.  I am looking for real language that pertains to real people that is accessible to and for the regular Joe, Jane, Joe-Jane  and Jamie Schmo's of the world. 

I guess I am inviting you on my journey.  I don't know what all I will talk about, but I think for the good of my sanity, I need this project.  If there are others pregnant bois, or pregnant bois to be out there in the world, or anyone really who draws any insight or comfort from my experience that is a complete bonus.