The Utah Supreme Court handed down their opinion on Jones v. Barlow today.

The case involves Keri Jones and Cheryl Barlow.  The two women conceived a child via a.i. and then when the child was 2, their relationship ended.  Barlow now claims that she is no longer gay and doesn’t want her child exposed to that “lifestyle”.  Despite the lower courts’ rulings that Jones be allowed visitation with her daughter, Barlow repeatedly denied visitation.  Jones had to continually return to the courts to get chances to see her daughter.  I’ve written in depth about this case here.

The case was argued before the Utah Supreme Court back in August of 2005.  The decision was handed down today.

We hold that the doctrine of in loco parentis, as recognized by the courts of this state, does not independently grant standing to seek visitation after the in loco parentis relationship has ended. Although this court recognized the right of stepparents to seek visitation in Gribble v. Gribble, 583 P.2d 64 (Utah 1978), standing in that case arose out of an interpretation of statutory law granting such rights, not from an independent common law source. We decline to extend the common law doctrine of in loco parentis to create standing where it does not arise out of statute. We accordingly overturn the trial court’s grant of visitation rights and hold that the common law doctrine of in loco parentis does not independently grant standing to seek visitation against the wishes of a fit legal parent.

  So.  It doesn’t matter that Jones and Barlow planned, together, to conceive this child.  It doesn’t matter that they created legal paperwork to protect Jones’ relationship to their child.  It doesn’t matter that the child considers Jones to be her mother.  None of this matters because Barlow no longer wants Jones to be the child’s parent, and Barlow’s wishes are the only ones that count. Reading the opinion, I can’t help but note that Barlow’s move to Texas (against a court order) actually helped Barlow’s case after all. 

  Because it is clear that Barlow effectively ended the in loco parentis relationship when she moved to another residence and refused to allow Jones to interact with the child

  Barlow stole that child away and has ultimately been rewarded for it.Another gem from the opinion:

 On the one hand, we recognize that mutual bonds of affection can be formed between a child and an adult who does not fit within the traditional definition of a parent and that such a relationship has the potential to enrich the lives of both the surrogate parent and the child. However, in carving out a permanent role in the child’s life for a surrogate parent, this court would necessarily subtract from the legal parent’s right to direct the upbringing of her child and expose the child to inevitable conflict between the surrogate and the natural parents. Such a doctrine raises concerns that a legal parent could be deprived of a portion of her parental rights on the basis of “elusive factual determinations” as to whether she intended to relinquish those rights to a third party.

All the documentation Jones and Barlow created when they were in love that they intended to form a family, that Barlow intended to give birth to a child that she wanted Jones to help parent for the rest of that child’s life, that Jones was considered a parent by Barlow; all those things that we all do to try and establish our families as families in the absence of equal marriage and adoption rights, in the end all of that means nothing to the courts.   No one expects that they will fall out of love with their partners.  No one expects that if they do fall out of love, their break-up will degenerate to horrifying lows of legal nastiness.  No one expects that their partner will turn into the kind of person who would do anything to keep you from the child you planned together, out of spite and anger.  And yet, it can happen.

And now, if you live in Utah, spite and anger will win.

My heart is breaking for Keri Jones and her daughter.  My heart is breaking for every non-bio mom here in Utah, including myself.

You can read the opinion and the dissent here.

Sometimes I feel guilty expressing my strong desire for another child. I read so many blogs of people trying for their first baby and think of my own precocious cuddler and I lose my breath at my presumption. How dare I try for another piece of snuggly perfection, don’t I have enough? How can she not be enough?

But then I remember that my desire for a baby and our attempts to have another child doesn’t take anything from anyone else. Not even from Julia. We’re so schooled in the economics of scarcity that I forget that such limitations don’t apply here: joy isn’t a commodity to be measured out with only deserving people getting a share, and neither are children, though at times it might feel that way (and, oh boy, have I felt that many times in my 10 months of TTC).  I remember something that I put in words for a friend in an email earlier this week: I’m trying to get pregnant not because I don’t love Julia enough, but because I love her so much. I know that she was worth everything we did to get her, so I know that the next child, should it appear, will be just as worth it. My love for Julia propels me forward through my pain and frustration and fear.

Most of the time my desire for another child is an intellectual thing: my family is not complete, there is a member missing, this is what we feel we must do to rectify that problem; this is accompanied by a feeling of loss similar to missing the presence and company of a known and deeply loved family member. Sometimes my desire for another child is an issue of personal pride: I cannot believe that my body cannot do this thing, I will do this thing because I have never failed to do something I set out to do. (I think I’ve mentioned before that my impulses are not always the most laudable). Other times my desire for another child is a longing for the next step that my life is to take. But rarely is my desire for a baby visceral and sensual. I am too busy with my toddler to miss the milky smell of a baby’s cheeks or the way their eyes gaze at you as if you are the most wondrous thing they have ever or will ever behold.
Until I get to posts like this letter by H.D. I read her sentiments and look at those pictures and I can smell that baby, I can feel those tiny fingers and toes. The very cadence of her words brings back those heady, near-drunken on hormones and sleeplessness, wondrous, love-struck days. I read her post and both the absence of my baby who has turned toddler, and the absence of my baby that has yet to be hits me in the gut.

Clicking over to Lesbian Dad’s site does me no good, either. Those pictures of toddler and little brother help me sketch my own imaginary pictures of Julia meeting a future sibling. The melting of my heart at these images feels a bit too close to crying, and sadness is a part of that, but only a part. The feeling is one of happiness for them and projected happiness for a future us and a keen awareness that the future is not now. And I lose myself in bittersweet dreams for a time.

Dreams that even Katie’s post with the scary NICU pictures, and her long labor as described in her birth story posts, can’t disperse. Because at the end of all that fear is such a beautiful baby.

And I will have another beautiful baby, too. One day. One way or another.

I feel like I’m a woefully late guest to the two uteri family conversation, but that topic is at times, so hard for me to wrap my head around that I needed a little extra time to put my thoughts together. They still may not come out in the coherent, easy reading fashion that I’m striving for, and for that I apologize in advance.

To the unknowing outsider, I suppose it could seem like S and I have the perfect two uteri set up. She has one, I have one.  For those of you that have been following our journey, you know that we’re trying with my uterus. My uterus which must contend with my PCOS riddled body. My tubes which, while clear, are certainly nowhere near optimum.  My cycle, even when on fertility drugs is often long and drawn out. In contrast, S has perfect, 28 day cycles, and always has. There’s no indication that her uterus/tubes are anything less then perfect. Yet we continue to use me as the baby maker.

Why? Well, the answer….isn’t that simple. For one, I really really really want to carry a baby, and have really wanted to for quite some time. For whatever reason, while her desire to parent is strong, the desire to carry a child has never been evident for her. I think there are a couple of factors that weigh in on her decision, the first being that when you’re the kid of an obstetric nurse and lactation specialist, you may see some things from an early age that might just…scar you for life. I know that S was in attendance at some of her mom’s childbirth education classes from an early age. Perhaps that was enough to have her shy away from wanting to actually “do that.” Who knows?

Perhaps its that possibly less than optimum genetic material courses through her body.  I’ve never, in the 2 years I’ve blogged, talked about this, but I think the time has come. S’s brother, B, has Williams Syndrome.  People with Williams Syndrome are missing some genetic material on the 7^th chromosome, and this causes (among other things) distinct facial characteristics (similar to Downs Syndrome, but different,) and numerous mental and physical abnormalities. I think that growing up with B as a brother brought distinct challenges to S and her parents.  S has lived through how hard and difficult it can be to care for a challenged family member, and she saw the strain that it put on her parents.

To further complicate things, S has a few other mentally challenged family members that are close to her in lineage.  I think that, while these are not necessarily inherited characteristic, S is petrified of her genes being the cause of a less than “perfect” child.  If that fate is to befall us, at least it would be random, rather than a pre-disposed type of thing.

Perhaps it’s just that she REALLY does not want to carry. At all. Not with her eggs, my eggs, or donor eggs, she is adamant that her uterus will not be used as a baby growing location.

And I understand this. I really really do. But I’ve had to do a LOT of work to get to that understanding place, and honestly, sometimes I still have moments where I don’t understand. Where I wonder why she won’t do “this” for us. For me. For our family.  This is something I’ll likely have to contend with until that beautiful day when we bring home a child of our own. Which, no matter how it happens, there is comfort in knowing that someday, it will happen.  Two uteri or not.

Trista’s recent post about negotiating childbearing in a 2-uterus family reminded me so much of many of the conversations my wife, NSG, and I had the first few years we were together.

Like Trista and Kristin, NSG and I wanted to adopt. And like Kristin, I really wanted to get pregnant. Seems straightforward enough: 2 uteruses, 2 adults who definitely want more than one child, multiple ways to bring kids into your family. Only, not so simple.

NSG was completely uninterested in having kids biologically. One uterus down. She was also uninterested in having any children who weren’t adopted. And, while I didn’t care about having a bio connection to me kid, I just couldn’t imagine how to prepare to become a parent without someone in the family growing the first one.

Now is the point where, if you’ve been through a home study, you realize you’ve just peed yourself laughing. The homestudy was, in retrospect, a MUCH more involved way to prepare to become a parent – if not from the perspective of the body, at least from the perspective of the mind.

Now, before those of you who have been pregnant or who have supported someone through pregnancy get mad at me, I’m not trying to suggest that you weren’t intensely thoughtful about every aspect of pregnancy and parenting. But a homestudy, when it’s done the way it meant to be done, is set up so that you have no choice but to be mindful. We had conversations ad nauseam about every situation that could possibly come up with an expectant mom making an adoption plan: no pre-natal care, depression, didn’t know the father, was married to the father, was 14, was 44, was a high school dropout, had a PhD, was from any imaginable cultural or ethnic background, and on and on. If I had been pregnant I imagine we wouldn’t have thought through nearly so many things.

Before we were actually ready to have kids, we had those behind-the-hand conversations so many about-to-be-TTC lesbian couples have about our male friends and our friend’s husbands.  He’s a great guy, we would whisper to each other. And we’ve been friends with his wife for so long I bet she’d go for it.

But when it came down to it, NSG really didn’t want us to get pregnant. She made me a deal: take a serious look at adoption. If you’re happy, we’ll do it first, and if you still want to get pregnant, I’ll support you. So I did, and I was happy. And it really didn’t take long. Now here we are on the other end of it, and, well, we have Roo. How could I help but be overjoyed at this little being who I get to call my son?

NSG meant it when she made her bargain, but I know she thought after we adopted one that I wouldn’t care about getting pregnant after that. But I have to say: I’m more clear than ever that having a biological connection to my child isn’t important to me, but I’m still not clear if I’m willing to give up the experience of being pregnant. 

Charlotte’s posts this week make it abundantly clear that having more options does not equal an easier process. And, despite all the jokes about lesbians and processing, I think lesbian couples by definition have to be pretty thoughtful about how to have a baby (though if anyone has figured out a way to get fingers to produce sperm, please leave your email address in the comments: I think there’s a wealthy future in store for you).

Where am I going with all this? Nowhere directly, that’s for sure. But I wanted to add my two cents (two dollars, maybe – this is a long post) to the discussion about negotiating adding to a family when the necessary equipment is not all built-in.

Anyone else want to run with this one?

I really need to ask myself why all my posts over here have my inability to perform up to my expectations and follow-through with my stated intentions as a primary theme.  It could be that I’m here to write about parenting and family creation and my path to parenting and family creation was full of the crumbling of my intentions and the flummoxing of my expectations (e.g.: our child will be conceived in a romantic moment between the two of us and our syringe; my child will eat only home-made, organic foods).  Or it could be that I’m lazy.  There are many people who will vouch that I’m just lazy.  See, I didn’t even post last week, and this week instead of getting a cheery and funny round-up of some of the intriguing posts made during this last week, you’re getting a emotion-laden discussion based on posts more than a week old, and we all know how quickly things can change in the blogosphere in a week.  Regardless, I am charging forward.

I was struck last week by the discussion on several blogs about different ways the not-getting-pregnant partner of a TTC couple feels as the time to conceive stretches out longer and longer.  Charlotte talked about the slow and painful realization that she and her partner need to switch rolls; Lo wrote of her feelings around Co’s decision to take a break month and how frustrating the TTC journey has been for her;  Jay wrote about her own stresses and grief over how tenuous her participation in the attempts to conceive her and Jay’s child feels and; E. shares a conversation that she and her partner have had about living in a 2 uteri home.  So I thought I’d add my own voice to the discussion.

When I first met Kristin I was set on getting pregnant within 2 years.  I was planning on being a single mother and then she came along, and she was not ready.  Further, she felt that the best way to build a family would be through adoption.  In one of our first serious discussion on family I told her that I would be happy to adopt as many children as we could care for, but that I was going to get pregnant and give birth at least once, and for us to be together she had to accept that.  And, eventually, she did.  But by the time we were ready to add to our family, she had great health insurance through her job and I had nothing.  Though intellectually I have no problem with lesbians going on Medicaid when pregnant because they can’t be insured through their partners, emotionally I have a strong working-class distaste for taking assistance from the government (this is only a distaste for myself taking such aid, I don’t have any problem at all with other people receiving aid).  So, even though I am older than Kristin and have a strong desire to be pregnant whereas Kristin did not, we decided that for us it made sense for her to be the first one of us to get pregnant.  So that’s what we did.  And I poured all my desire for pregnancy into getting her pregnant.  But the term “getting” implies control; as the not-getting-pregnant expectant mother, control was something I had to realize had been forfeited.  This realization took, um, until Julia was (I’m embarrassed to admit this) 14 months old. That’s right, folks, I have been free of the need to control Kristin’s TTC and pregnancy as a way to prove my value and worth to the family for a whole two months now. What can I say?  Letting control is all about faith, and I have never had an easy time with faith.

I was miserable and conflicted through the time we were trying to conceive Julia.  I felt like a 5^th wheel.  There were times when our donor was in the basement, producing his contribution, when I would look at Kristin readying herself on the bed and think that if I were gone Kristin could be getting the stuff direct from the source, as it were.  As time went on I began to be convinced that such directness would be the only way to produce a child.  I felt that my demands for intimacy during the process, my bumbling fingers, my extreme distaste for the semen, my conflicted emotions and thought processes were all contributing to the failure of our endeavor.  Such was the way I maintained a sense of control.  If I couldn’t control success, I could damn well claim credit for failure.

It didn’t get better when Kristin finally got pregnant.  Oh, yes, there was joy.  There was excitement.  There was tenderness and love.  But there was bitterness, too.  I lost my job.  My job was part-time and very flexible – I was able to work from home a great deal.  I had been consoling myself that I wasn’t to be the birthmother by saying that I was still to be the main caregiver.  When the company I worked for folded, I realized that I would have to get a full-time job to be able to make the same amount of money: I was no longer to be the main care-giver.  At that point I felt that the only thing I could offer our family was a paycheck and some emotional support.  But as my job search stretched out longer and longer I lost all sense of value.  Even the paycheck I thought I could give my family was in doubt at this point.  We were keeping our household afloat with my unemployment checks: I was on gov’t assistance. And with that reality I became jealous and bitter.  I was jealous that Kristin was pregnant.  Her pregnancy was a high-risk one and secretly I was certain that if I were the one pregnant everything would be smooth sailing.  Further, I had been hoping to be able to continue my education by getting accepted into the PhD Creative Writing program at the U: after months of being kept in limbo it was finally revealed to me that I had never been waitlisted, my rejection letter had simply never been sent.

As I sank beneath the turbulent and turgid (like this prose) emotions of depression, anger, bitterness, disappointment, worthlessness, and shame I became unable to support Kristin emotionally.  Oh, I tried, but I was too busy concealing all of the emotions I deemed to shameful to share with my partner.  Further, I did not know any other woman in my position.  All the lesbians who were mothers in my acquaintance had given birth to their children, and all of them were separated from their “deadbeat” “worthless” ex-partners.  If their ex-partners had any contact with their children, the bio mothers were hypercritical and resentful of such contact.  I think if I had some one to talk to, some other lesbian who had gotten children the way I was trying to get a child, I would have had a much easier time emotionally.  I needed someone I could reveal these emotions, who would tell me that they weren’t shameful, that they were natural, and not indications that I was unworthy to become a mother or be partnered to a woman about to give birth.

And now, I’m afraid, this post is getting too long.  To be continued…

This week, I bring you more lesbian legal news from Ontario, Canada.

In July of last year, lesbian parents in Ontario won the right to have both women register on a child’s birth document, called the Statement of Live Birth. Before this decision, the non-bio mom was required to adopt her own child, usually waiting six months or more for this to go through, and often having to pay $1500 to $2500, depending on the lawyer. Our family didn’t qualify for this change for 2 reasons: One, our son was already born (the province had one year to make the changes) and two, we used a known donor (meaning we had to have him sign away his rights or be legally vulnerable if he ever requested custody).

My partner therefore had to adopt our son and just las month we completed our second parent adoption. Even though we were able to complete this before he was a year old, let me tell you, it was a serious pain in the a**. The Ontario registrar general can really rub salt in the wounds when you are trying so desperately to recreate family over here. As the birth mom, I was the only one allowed on the statement of live birth, and when requesting a birth certificate (which is the next step) I received not one, but two requests for his “father’s” first name (not last, because of course, he OBVIOUSLY has his “father’s” last name). Even though we had sent a letter stating why there was no father, even though we had left it BLANK, they still wanted to make sure I wasn’t denying some man’s rights to this kid.

Which brings me to my real point! Last week, after the adoption was finalized we filled out a new statement of live birth, placing my partner’s information in the “father’s” section. I found it odd that the form had yet to be changed, or that there was no alternate form, as same sex couples in Ontario have been adopting children for over 10 years now. On Thursday of last week, my neighbour witnessed the signing of our new statement of live birth, and I sent it off, registered mail.

THE NEXT DAY, I received an email from our friends at the LGBT Parenting Network about the change in language on the forms, due to the decision in July. I couldn’t believe this had come so shortly after having filled out the old form, and resigned myself to the fact that our son’s statement of live birth/birth certificate would be an historical document with his mother as the father. I opened up the document to see the changes anyhow. And what have been the changes? After “father”, they have included a slash (/) and the words, “other parent”.

Pardon? “Other” parent? What’s the deal here? What is “other” about my partner’s parenting? Why can’t she also be a mother?

Today, Ontario’s highest court ruled that a five year old boy has three legal parents – his biological mother, her partner, and their good friend, his biological father.

The case is believed to be the first in Canada in which a child has more than two legal parents, said Peter Jervis, a lawyer for the partner. He said while there have been birth-registry cases in which lesbian couples sought parentage of their children, the fathers in those cases were not active or were unknown due to sperm donations.

In this case, the biological father, a friend of the lesbian couple, remains involved in the 5-year-old boy’s life at the request of the two women. The father would have lost his parental rights if the lesbian partner had been able to adopt the boy under Ontario law.

The lesbian partner brought the case against the biological mother and father, seeking a declaration for parentage. They fully supported the legal action.

The Ontario Court of Appeal ruling released yesterday overturns a 2003 Superior Court of Justice decision not to give the female partner legal status as the child’s mother. The judge said the court did not have jurisdiction to grant the title.

Justice Marc Rosenberg, writing on behalf of Chief Justice Roy McMurtry and Justice Jean-Marc Labrosse, found that due to a gap in legislation, the court in this case can exercise its “parens patriae” – the legal term for the state to act as the guardian for a minor – in declaring the partner a mother.

“Advances in our appreciation of the value of other types of relationships and in the science of reproductive technology have created gaps in the (Children’s Law Reform Act’s) legislative scheme,” Rosenberg wrote. “Because of these changes, the parents of a child can be two women or two men.”

I find this very exciting, as it really does challenge traditional family structures and makes all those f*ocus on the f*amily freakos very very upset. Because of course, having MORE parents for a child is a bad idea, right? What about the “village” folks? I don’t think queers made up that saying, but I do know that many of us take it to heart and have a number of people in our chosen families.

Joanna Radbord, who has been a prominent lawyer in many cases affecting gays and lesbian, such as adoption and same sex marriage rights in Ontario, has stated that lesbians with known donors (and also gay men with surrogates) should look to families with step parents as allies. This would be another case where there could potentially be a third person seeking parental rights (the step parent of a child who already has a legal mother and father would have to have one of those parents removed from the official documentation in order to adopt the child and therefore be legally responsible for the child). What is so different from that situation than from queers who may be looking to acknowledge all the people involved in a child’s life? The one major difference between these two scenarios is actually another argument in favour of allowing gay and lesbian redefinitions of the family – divorced couples and step parents usually have been through the breaking up of a relationship, whereas this case is bringing together three people who are actively seeking to be a part of their child’s life.

My partner and I were discussing this news as we watched the telly this evening and the reports on the issue. Of course, the focus on the family opponents were out in full force, with worries that if we allow children to have more than 2 parents, families will fall apart and never be the same. The issue? Custody. If folks break up and partner again, wouldn’t it be really confusing to arange visitation between 3, 4, 5 etc. parents? (As if organizing visitation and custody between two people is always easy peasy). It was obvious that the issue was with the LESBIANS who were involved in this parenting family. If it had been the opposite sex wife of the biological father who was looking for rights, no one would have said a word.

I know that I speak from a position of privilege, as here in Canada my partner had the right to adopt our child and be recognized as our son’s legal parent (and I know many families in the US and around the world are not able to do so). Yet this ruling may mean that we could acknowledge all the people who helped create our son, and who may be interested in being in his life in the future (we don’t have that kind of arrangment with our current donor, but who knows how he will feel in the future, or how our new donor will feel?). I also feel that it could take away the fear of using a known donor, especially if non biological partners can be recognized equally as a parent if the donor does not want to terminate his rights. Or perhaps this is still a scary scenario?

How do you feel? If there are more than 2 people involved in the life of your child that would like to acknowledge (known donor, surrogates, birth mom/dads?) is this a good thing?

I spent several hours composing a letter to Heather Poe.  As I wrote it I got angrier and angrier (not at Heather Poe per se, but at the entire situation) and by the time it was finished I was fuming.  I asked Kristin to read the letter before I posted it and after she was done she looked at me, appalled.

“This is too mean to post.”

And she’s right.  I don’t want what I write over here to be full of bitterness and sarcasm.  I wish I could be loving and supportive.  I wish I could.  As someone very gently pointed out (ok, a couple of someones) this really is a groundbreaking development.  I mean, lesbian families are infiltrating even the hallowed ground at the heart of the neo-conservative movement.  That’s big.  I should be happy.  Things could change quicker now.  Obviously Mary and Heather want a child very badly.  I can’t imagine the decision-making process that they went through.  So I guess I can be happy for them that they’re getting their child.  I know how it is to want a child so much that you’re willing to alienate everyone around you in order to get one.  I don’t think their decision to have a baby is wrong.  But still, I’m angry. 

I’m angry that someone who has strategized for the people in charge of the political party that has used LGBTQ issues to divide our country by working up fear against LGBTQ people and our “agenda” (you know, that whole “equal rights” thing) in order to push their own agenda (an agenda that, in my opinion, mainly consists of eviscerating the Bill of Rights, war and profiteering, and the gutting of social services in order to pad the pockets of the rich) could just get pregnant and all the queer families are supposed to be supportive and happy because a high profile lesbian is going to be a mommy.  If this were just an LGBTQ issue, then I wouldn’t have a problem with unadulterated happiness – the more LGBTQ people having kids the better as far as I’m concerned.  But this isn’t just an LGBTQ issue.  This is, at heart, a class issue.  This is an issue of people making (or helping to make, or helping to put into power the people whom they know would make) a set of rules and laws that don’t apply to them simply because they have money and power.

I sputtered for hours over this comment from Family Pride Executive Director Jennifer Chrisler:  

 “Grandfather Cheney will no doubt face a lifetime of sleepless nights as he reflects on the irreparable harm he and his administration have done to the millions of American gay and lesbian parents and their children.”

No.  No he won’t.  In my opinion, if Chrisler is thinking that this grandchild is going to change anything for Cheney, she’s very wrong.  Unlike the supportive parents of lesbian non-bio mothers (LGBTQ parents at all, actually) Dick Cheney will never have someone tell him that that child isn’t his grandchild.  He will never have to worry that if his daughter’s relationship falls apart he might never see his grandchild again.  He will never fear losing access to the child if Heather Poe dies.  There are two reasons for this:
1)      (the obvious one) The child is biologically Mary’s, and thus as his biological grandchild, he has rights through blood.  The grandfather who “will no doubt face a lifetime of sleepless nights” is far more likely to be Grandfather Poe.  Dick Cheney can sleep soundly; he has nothing to worry about.
2)      (the one that gets my dander up) The Cheneys have enough money to make most of these concerns irrelevant.  So many of the worries and headaches that come with legal discrimination and unequal treatment before the law start evaporating if you throw enough money at them.  And we’re not just talking about any rich people here; we’re talking about people with political clout.  Even if Heather was the bio mom, do you think that if the Vice President wanted access to a child that he considered his grandchild (if he was capable of thinking of a child birthed by the lesbian partner of his daughter as his grandchild – a theory that has not been tested and most likely will not) that he would encounter any serious problems?  Even if Heather and Mary were no longer together, even if Heather wanted her child to have nothing to do with the Cheneys?  At the very least the Cheneys have enough money to fund the bitterest of court battles as far as it could go.  All in the best interests of the child, of course.

In truth, I am worried about Heather Poe; she has so much to lose.  And I wonder what she thinks of in the middle of the night and if she ever wakes in a cold sweat thinking about how precarious her place in the family she is helping to create really is.  And I wonder if she thinks about the fact that it is the politics and beliefs of Mary’s family and the people they have surrounded themselves with that have contributed to her precariousness.  And I wonder what class Heather belongs in when she isn’t partnered with Mary.  That’s got to be a lot of pressure on Heather (and Mary, too).  See? I can be compassionate.  Can you imagine living your life surrounded on all sides by such people as what makes up the bulk of Cheney family’s political base? But my worry for Heather is mostly a displaced worry for myself.  I see her and I see myself: a non-bio mom in a hostile state, trapped in a legal limbo and scrabbling for whatever protections the law will stretch to afford. 

But I’m just projecting.  Heather Poe is not me. I am not Heather Poe.  So I shouldn’t be taking this all so personally.  Still.  I am. 

Mary Cheney can work for the benefit of those who would discriminate against us (and her) and dissolve our families because she can afford to.  She can do that AND have a child because she can afford to.  Because she lives in a bubble of money and power and she’s shown herself to be capable of doing what’s necessary to stay there. I’m sure this new family will be fine.  Mary and Heather will use their money to hire the best lawyers they can find and they’ll put themselves together layers of protections that many of us can’t afford.  I would be surprised if they don’t set up a secret second residence in a more friendly state for the purposes of adoption.  And they’ll raise their child in that special class bubble.  And I’m certain that the right-wing zealots around them will be nice to their faces* and venomous behind their backs, as always.  And I doubt the hypocrisy of their situation will bother them one bit.  After all, if you can’t afford to have a child, then you’ve got no business bringing one into the world.
*as long as, you know, Mary and Heather and baby remain discreet and unobtrusive and don’t get all “in your face” about their cough, cough lifestyle.
 

I had the most fantastic introductory post written.  Really, it was a thing of beauty.  It started off with the sentences: “In June 2005, I was unemployed, overly isolated, incredibly depressed, and expecting a child with my partner, Kristin.  I’d been these things for quite a while as we had received the news that I was losing my job a week after we found out Kristin was pregnant; the baby was due in August.”  And then it went off into flights of sheer brilliance which dazzled my eye so much that I can only remember a few snippets:

 

…Lesbians With Kids existed only in such far away and fairy-tale-like locations as San Francisco, New York, and Atlanta… 

… after a long and fruitless search, I stumbled onto the oasis that is Addition Problems, and all my burdens dropped away… 

… though it took quite a while before I got anyone’s attention besides those people who happened to visit my home and were dragged to the computer screen and forced to read my latest blog masterpiece post…

My intended first post for LesbianFamily.org was all about searching for community: looking for mentors and colleagues and friends and inspiration.  The post explained how for me a big part of that search ended when I began my blog and entered the amazingly supportive and dynamic lesbian family blogosphere.  The idea that one can create a community through words warms the very cockles of this writer’s heart and I wanted a perfect post to express my delight and love for the blogging community that has embraced me so warmly; and I succeeded in writing that perfect post… and then WordPress ate it.  And, of course, because I was so overcome by the sheer eloquence of my own words, I had neglected to save a copy anywhere else.

So it’s gone.  My post.  My lovely post.  And I’m left with only this shadow to give you. 

But you know, it’s ok, because my words aren’t the draw.  The draw to this site is you.  I’m here because of all of you.  Your words, your stories, your experiences, your emotions: they inspire me.  You inspire me.

When Liza asked me if I wanted to contribute to LesbianFamily.org I gave her a resounding “yes!” because I think LesbianFamily.org can become a nexus for the lesbian family blogosphere.  I think it can be the thing to pull in our disparate voices and let each be heard.  I think it can be a place of vibrant discussion and connection.  And with all that, I want to stand here in the center and hold up a mirror and reflect you back to yourselves.  I want discussion to swirl around me, your words to fill me up.  Watch this space in the coming weeks; you’ll see interviews with bloggers, weekly blogroll highlights, and (hopefully) a monthly carnival.  You might also find me posting the occasional editorial or commentary-type piece intended to start discussion, but for the most part I’m going to be here to write about you.

You are all amazing.  I can’t wait to get started.