Partner’s Post: And The Green Grass Grew All Around

Neighbor, who knows we’re expecting a baby in the fall: Taking out the trash

Me, long-haired and girly-looking: Mowing the lawn and minding my own business

Neighbor: “A woman in your condition shouldn’t be mowing the lawn!”

Me: “Um-” (This is uber-awkward.) “-I’m not pregnant. PartnerA is.”

Neighbor: “Oh, uh, oh, um, oh…”

Me: “Don’t worry! Lots of people make that mistake-” (Because they equate hair length with fertility.) “-but nope, it’s PartnerA who’s pregnant!”

Neighbor: “Oh! Well, neither of you are showing!”

Me: I should hope I’m not showing! I’m saving immaculate conception for another day, thanks. Now may I and my ‘condition’ return to mowing the lawn?

Partner’s Post: It’s A…

…fetus!

C’mon, you didn’t really think that I was going to say, did you? 😉

The big 20-week ultrasound happened on Friday, June 21, 2013. At 3:00 PM, it was a sunny afternoon on the first day of summer, a perfect day to be a 20-week-old fetus. Bingo was technically only chronologically 17 weeks and four days at that point, but gestational age is measured on its own special scale that races Bingo ahead to 19 weeks and four days. And 19 weeks and four days is apparently plenty old enough for a 20-week ultrasound. It lacks logical sense, but that’s just the way it goes in Fetus Land. Roll with it!

Partner’s Post: Sea has been a busy bee in bedroom three.

Our house is 90 years old. The place has character. It also has the telltale signs of old homes. PartnerA and I have been fixing the place up room by room since we moved in three years ago. So far, one of the by-and-large untouched rooms has been the third bedroom, which we jokingly refer to as “The Cat Room”. After all, it’s little more than a play room for our brood of mismatched felines and some office furniture left over from our college days.

With Bingo on the way, though, I decided to make Bingo’s bedroom my big project. So as PartnerA has been working at creating a mini-human, I’ve been working at creating a livable space of the third bedroom. Like Bingo, now at 19 weeks and one day gestation, Bingo’s room is coming along slowly but surely!

Partner’s Post: Baby Steps

The idea originated in the narrow aisle between the racks of men’s long sleeve knits and children’s clothing. I’d been Pinteresting creative pregnancy announcement ideas for months and the ones toward which I always gravitated were the various incarnations of the shoe lineup. If you’re half as obsessive as I am about all things baby, you’ve seen the straight version: dad’s loafers, mom’s heels, and a gender-appropriate pair of pastel baby booties. I couldn’t exactly justify spending $22 on genuine baby Chucks for a fetus, but nonetheless I eagerly imagined staging a queer take on the aforementioned announcement with a lineup of Converse.

Partner’s Post: Bingo

Tonight, PartnerA and I Skyped PartnerA’s parents. The script that we had practiced in advance of this call included the words ‘we’ and ‘our’ in every sentence to tacitly reinforce to PartnerA’s already-skeptical mother that regardless of its genetic makeup, PartnerA’s and my child is PartnerA’s and my child. Our embryo and someday-child has two parents and two parents only — and PartnerA’s mother, contrary to some opinions, is not one.

The rehearsed plan was to catch both of her parents mid-conversation at the point when they exchanged seats in front of the webcam. But that didn’t quite work out so well because upon completing a lengthy conversation with PartnerA’s mother (during which PartnerA’s mother referred to PartnerA as “child” twice), she announced that PartnerA’s father was in the midst of making dinner and was too busy to chat. PartnerA insisted, so PartnerA’s mother disappeared to the kitchen. Moments later, she returned, sans Daddy. Again, PartnerA’s mother reiterated that PartnerA’s father was too busy making dinner to talk. Again, PartnerA insisted and again, PartnerA’s mother disappeared to the kitchen. Moments later, PartnerA’s father appeared in front of the computer, sans Mummy. Dude! Getting those two into the same room is impossible.

That’s when PartnerA made the spontaneous decision to ditch the plan and launch into our script. She caught me off guard, but I squeezed her hand out of view of the webcam and rolled with it.

Partner’s Post: Heather Has Three Mommies

Mothers. You can’t live with ’em. You can’t live without ’em. Literally.

Partner’s Post: Call Me Maybe (The Fourth IUI)

If the day of the fourth insemination was a sitcom, it would be titled Two and a Half (Strange) Men. The episode would feature our half-stranger fertility doc Dr. Text, our brand new donor Lefty, and a man named Tom who PartnerA and I came upon outside as we made our way to our appointment at Clinic One that morning, face-down on the icy pavement bleeding from his head.

Oh yes indeed, the day of the fourth insemination was a doozy. 

Partner’s Post: The Facebook status that I could post, but won’t, part 5.

“If today was a sitcom, it would be ‘Two and a Half (Strange) Men’. The episode would feature our half-stranger fertility doc Dr. Text; our brand new donor Lefty; and a man named Tom who PartnerA and I came upon outside as we made our way to our appointment at Clinic One this morning, face-down on the icy pavement bleeding from his head.”

Immediately before IUI #4 today, I spent 15 minutes on the telephone with a 911 dispatcher. What’s your favorite pre-insemination activity?

Partner’s Post: There’s Always Next Year (aka The Second IUI)

The other night, I had a dream that PartnerA told me that she was due in August. August is nine months from November. I awoke wondering about the significance of the conversations that we share with one another in dreams.

Partner’s Post: Retired

At the ripe old age of 24, “Mickey” has retired.

Our number one, perfect in every way, first choice donor is sold out with both The Great Sperm Warehouse and with all regional suppliers.

A regional supplier in our city had promised PartnerA six more vials of “Mickey”, but then the regional supplier forgot (oops!) to follow through and actually order those vials from The Great Sperm Warehouse, and now those promised six are gone, destined for other uteri. The three vials of “Mickey” that we purchased last month are it, and the first attempt in October failed, so now we’re down to two shots in the dark. Literally and figuratively. Two.

I could be angry at the regional supplier’s incompetence, but being angry won’t procure us more vials of “Mickey”, so while I’m disappointed, I’m trying to keep hold on perspective.

Several years ago when we were house-hunting, our number one, perfect in every way, first choice house fell through too. When I’m feeling disappointed about losing our number one, perfect in every way, first choice donor, I remember being the second-highest bidder on that cozy white duplex on a quiet side street. At the time, it felt devastating, but in hindsight, the house that we purchased in the end, our home, is even better than what was once “number one”. Perspective. Losing “Mickey” is similar to losing that house? Maybe “Mickey” isn’t “home”. Everything happens for a reason. I’m trying to remind myself regularly that what is meant to be will be.

Trouble is, our second choice donor is perfectly fine, but he’s not perfect. “Mickey” is perfect. I’ve struggled (I’m struggling…) a great deal with finding a comfortable place as the “NGP”, feeling like a third wheel, feeling useless, purposeless in the process, and all of those other formerly articulated words that so unintentionally offended some readers of this blog… It’s the truth… It’s how I’ve felt and sometimes how I feel… Through the self-loathing, through the fear about not being “enough”, and through some future child’s voice yelling “You can’t make me! You’re not my mommy!” ringing in my ears, over time, I’ve slowly begun to identify with “Mickey”. “Mickey” is enough like me that in some way, his biological offspring could be mine? I’ve only just begun to feel that way. And now what? Now we’re down to two vials of “Mickey”. Two more chances. Could I feel the same, eventually, about our second choice donor? Could I identify with number two, too?

Who knows, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. We’ve still got two more tries with “Mickey”. “Mickey” may still work out, right? Two tries might do it?

I’m trying to remain optimistic. TheImpendingFetus will be exactly who TIF is meant to be.

Nevertheless, when the new disclaimer pops up over “Mickey’s” profile in The Great Sperm Warehouse’s online catalog, my heart sinks just a little.

ADVISORY

This donor is no longer active in the donor program and is currently sold out of units

Donor ABC1234 is no longer active in the program and is sold out of units. Additional units are not expected to become available in the future. Please take this into consideration when considering purchasing this donor.