And Baby Will Make Three
When Otto and I first began to discuss the possibility of children we couldn’t reach an agreement. There were two options for us to start our family – have a baby or adopt a child through the Children’s Aid – and we knew we wanted to do both.
In creating a map of where to begin, we opted for adoption first and pregnancy second. We had a perfect vision in our head. We’d adopt one child, a boy, somewhere between the ages of 5-8. Then, right away, we’d begin working on a baby, and I’d eventually give birth to a female infant.
One of the big reasons why adoption came first and pregnancy second was because we were stuck on how to conceive a child. I wanted to use a known donor and Otto wanted an unknown donor. Neither of us would budge on our positions.
Since adoption was still part of the picture, we moved forward with that, and ended up with two kids instead of the one. Now we are parents to a (mostly wonderful) 12-year-old boy and a (mostly wonderful) 14-year-old girl.
We’re now at the end of the tumultuous adoption tunnel. The first year was rough, with lots of ups and downs, and we expected it to be so. The second year was hard and awful. It was unexpected and incredibly difficult. Now, we can look back and wonder how our family survived. The third year has been delightful and comical and joyful. Yes, there are hard days. There’s just not hard weeks, months or quarters. We have really great kids. We have patterns, routines and we all know each other’s quirks which adds to healthy familial functioning, love and trust. We’ve settled into a really neat little family.
Now it’s time to add one more.
A baby has been a topic of conversation for the past year. It’s been hot and cold. I’d desperately want a baby, while Otto would balk. Otto would desperately want a baby, and I’d balk. We’d talk about it as a concept, and eventually, the conversations morphed into the practical how-tos. I’d come around and could be okay with using a sperm bank. And surprisingly, Otto came around to the idea of a known donor.
There were many known prospects that came to mind, but the queer boys of our generation are seemingly protective of their sperm. Many of our male friends talk about having families of their own and tend to be saving their DNA for themselves. Our other male friends who’d expressed their willingness to donate, did so with the caveat that they wanted to co-parent. We’re already a household with two adoptive parents, three birth parents and their extended families, and adding a third parent to only one of the children was a recipe in disaster making for us.
In our quest to think if we could even create a baby with a known donor, we had to come up with the perfect boy. We wanted intelligence, smarts and creativity. Someone gentle and beautiful. A healthy man with a great medical history. A person our child could know, love, respect and admire. Someone who could be an uncle, but wouldn’t likely want to be a parent.
We chose such a boy, we asked him, and he said yes. Folks, we have a DONOR and are working on getting on the baby train!!!!