By Meghan Lewis, Ph.D.
My bio-clock struck thirty. I had just completed my doctorate with a specialization in pre and perinatal psychology. I had also just become an apprentice midwife and a preconception consultant. Fascinated with every aspect of conception, gestation, and birth coupled with the resounding tick-tock of surging pregnancy urges, I eagerly began my early imaginings about my own range of reproductive options. Who might be my family’s donor down the road or across the bridge?
Would I, by then, have a wife with whom I would discuss any likely possibilities on her side of the family? Would I ask a beloved friend to share in a lifetime of parenting? Maybe I would meet and get to know well over the years a committed gay male couple who would be delighted by the idea of co-creating a family with the explicit hope of the more (parents) the merrier.
Fast-forward five years: No wife in sight, no suitable man-friend who lives in close proximity, and no gay male couple in my inner circle. Enter stage right: The Anonymous Donor Option. But where, oh where could he be? Which bank to choose? Which one will have my lucky number out of hundreds of random donors? A truly daunting decision was at hand. Doubly daunting—I had decided to go it alone. During this five-year stretch, I had undergone a complete overhaul of my set of expectations about what it would take to turn me into a mom. It had come down to the bare essentials: my uterus; my heart; and one handy, dandy swimmer. Thanks to the help of a local sperm bank, I found my guy!
Through complete grace I was spared cycle after cycle of waiting, wondering, and doubting if ever, if ever I would one day conceive. Shortly into my second trimester I contacted the bank to find out, if possible, about any other families who had selected the same donor. I quickly found out that there was a woman in San Francisco nearly due, and she also was interested in contacting me. As chance had it, when I received her e-mail I was delightfully surprised to find I had already met her and had even congratulated her on her pregnancy months before when our paths crossed at the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival. Small world!
She had shared with me that she had had told the sperm bank director that she was interested in meeting the donor before the birth of her baby. At this sperm bank, the donors sign a contract agreeing to be anonymous until the birth parent reports her newborn’s arrival, at which point she receives his name and contact information. In our case, our donor also was open to meeting any recipients during their pregnancies. Prospective parents are also reassured that donors sign a contract that clearly states that they do not have any financial obligations or legal rights to the child.
After learning of his name through the bank with the donor’s thumbs up, I contacted him to arrange a time to meet. Beforehand, I did a little online research and came across a photo of him on a website of a couple’s wedding that he had attended. As I scrolled through the photos, I saw a picture of the woman who officiated the wedding. Unbelievable! It was a picture of my housemate at the time. “What is with these uncanny layers of connection?” I kept wondering to myself. Even smaller world – it all began to feel oddly auspicious!
Meeting our donor, Shum, and Mike – his partner/husband of now 19 years – was a fabulous occasion filled with wonder, excitement, and great gratitude! I enjoyed their warmth, their humor, and their genuine enthusiasm immensely. I felt additionally fortunate that they were sincerely interested in participating in my soon-to-be newborn’s life. Had I met them a few years earlier, I could imagine that I likely would have picked them as the couple to whom I would have popped the donor question!
Though it all may seem somewhat easy thus far, the path from selecting a sperm bank to picking a donor to actually meeting him and his extended family has been, and still is, loaded with many practical considerations and tremendous amounts of soul searching. What do healthy genes look like on a sperm bank medical form? How am I contributing to the evolution of the culture of family? These questions and more weighed heavily on my mind.
Choosing anonymous, donor-assisted, intentional fertilization as a queer solo parent-to-be also has raised such questions in my mind as: “Who will I look to as my role models?” and, “What would I need in order to possibly ameliorate the potential isolation that could arise in the face of the predominant, heterosexually-coupled parenting paradigm?” Additionally, in what ways would my status as a parent be regarded? Would I have to contend with any social ramifications or political injustices that stigmatize and scrutinize not only those who are categorized as single mothers, but doubly so as those who are perceived to breed queer spawn? How would my connections with various communities expand or contract? Who would be there for me, and most importantly, for my child?
Dwelling on these questions, especially during a time of phenomenal hormonal upheaval, could have tampered with my sense of inherent excitement. Over time these questions – essentially steeped in concerns regarding personal, psychological, and sociological safety – morphed into the background of my mind. The true heart of the matter took precedence as I indulged more in the maternal pride of procreation; I was pregnant and it was clearly meant to be!
At long, long last, midsummer arrived. Cancer gave way to Leo. And with an otherworldly exuberance and unparalleled joy, I finally held my beautiful, beloved Bennett in my arms for the very first time. I was thrilled to share in the celebration of his birth with friends and family and equally so with our donor and his husband.
As my son grew, so did his love for Shum and Mike and theirs for him. Their continued presence and engagement in Bennett’s life has been amazingly unwavering and generous beyond compare. They all visit with each other at minimum weekly, including pickups from school and occasional overnights, trips to museums, playgrounds, and birthday parties. They have arranged gatherings with extended family living out of state and also have maintained close connections with the two other donor-related families – the one previously mentioned and another living on the other side of the country. It is a rare and blessed experience to have two committed, loving, smart, responsible, dedicated, and creative men hold my son’s well-being deeply in their hearts.
Throughout the last three or so years, exploration and clarification regarding the outward face of our family constellation has become more important to my son as he literally and figuratively comes to new terms with and incorporates its real and perceived parameters. Understanding the everyday meaning of our family donor to the mind of my preschooler had once seemed simple as, “it takes a seed to grow a garden.” Today I hear far different rhetoric from the more self-aware and socially perceptive inquiries of a six-year-old.
We all have discussed a range of ways to share with others, from friends and teachers at school to new acquaintances and their parents at the playground, how it came to be that our family does not include a dad and who Shum and Mike are to us. Originally such expressions as our donor and his husband or friends of the family or family helpers sufficed in describing our relationship to others in various contexts. Today the term godfathers – without religious connotation – aptly applies.
As a child I was truly fortunate to have very involved in my life a young gay godfather and a wise crone goddessmother – most caring and creative people – with whom I spent a tremendous amount of fun-filled, fond memory-making time. They will always be incredibly near and dear to my heart as I hope and imagine Shum and Mike will be to Bennett’s. As his godfathers, I believe they acknowledge they are inextricably woven into the fabric of our family, emphatically adding a rainbow of colors, if you will, to our yellow, black, and red Scottish tartan. Who knew the day I picked out an anonymous donor at the bank, he’d be truly one in million and then some?
Meghan Lewis, PhD, CMT, offers perinatal bodymind therapy in her offices in Oakland and Walnut Creek. With over 15 years of experience working in maternal mental health, Meghan brings unconditional support to her clients exploring a range of preconception, pregnancy, postpartum, and parenting issues. Her approach is influenced by her interests in embodied mindfulness, transpersonal and ecofeminist theory, art therapy, and integrative health care practices. Meghan also has professional training and experience in perinatal bodywork and as an apprentice midwife and birth doula. She is the mother of a 6 year old son and is a member of the BirthWays Board of Directors.
For more information, please visit www.meghanlewisphd.com.
I kept saying, “This is going to be fast” and, “open up.” Charlotte told me I could get in the water at 5cm and when she checked me around 10:45 pm I was 5cm! I was so excited! I labored in the hospital tub with Selah and it was so much better than my labor with Andre (a terrible, long story). The tub was a bit disappointing because the water wasn’t very warm. I crawled in and got on my knees with my head hanging over the edge of the tub. This was not premeditated; it was the position my body wanted to be in at the time. I was only slightly distracted by the temperature of the water because all of a sudden I had a huge contraction. I wasn’t able to breathe through it and I remember thinking, “Wow. This shouldn’t be this hard already.” That is when I looked up and into Keenan’s eyes. They are a beautiful ocean green color. Looking into his eyes made me feel calm, so I decided to stare into his eyes during every contraction.
I like this picture because it was, believe it or not, the hardest part of my labor. I felt in control and on another planet all at the same time. Later Keenan told me that although I was looking in his eyes, it seemed that I was looking straight through him. He kept telling me he loved me and he was proud of me. We kissed a couple of times. The third, or maybe fourth hard contraction hit and suddenly I felt like I had to go to the bathroom. Yes, I’ve heard that when you feel like you have to go to the bathroom it’s time to push, but I really thought I had to go to the bathroom – numbers 1, 2, 3, and 4! I had only been in the tub 15 minutes! I told Charlotte I had to go and I started getting out of the tub. I didn’t feel an urge to push. I felt an obligation! She told me to not get out of the tub until she checked me and I remember thinking, “Something is about to come out and there is nothing I can do about it.”
The bun is finally in the oven, and now there are so many decisions to make! Whether you are expecting your first baby or you’ve done this once or twice before, most parents spend quite a bit of time preparing for their baby’s birth. Among other considerations, parents decide where to have the baby, who will be the medical care provider, what classes to take, and who will be members of their birth support team. The focus of this article is the question of finding childbirth education that is right for you.
Practice the techniques you learn in class so they will be familiar to you when you want to make use of them in labor. Finally, try to remember that no matter how much you prepare for the birth of your baby, there is no way to truly plan a birth. Trust your body to know how to give birth, surround yourself with unconditional, loving support, and surrender to whatever the mystery of your baby’s birth brings you.
out what is best for us and for our babies. In addition to what can seem like a deluge of opinions and birth stories that may influence us one way or another, we face decisions about testing, type of provider, place of delivery, pain management, interventions to speed or “enhance” the birth process, and how to care for our newborn. As a doula and childbirth educator, I often emphasize the importance of “informed choice” when women and their families consider their options and make decisions and plans during pregnancy and for childbirth. But what does this term mean, and why does it matter? And how can we find the information we need to make the decisions that feel right for our own unique experience – for ourselves and our babies?
unintentional or ill-considered, solo parents are breaking increasingly visible new ground and setting a new standard for the culture of parenting in our society. As Jennifers Aniston and Lopez portray empowered solo moms on film (though in admittedly unrealistic scenarios), and our country is led by the son of a powerful and celebrated solo mother, our cultural consciousness is experiencing a dramatic shift. Add to this the movements around gay marriage and gay parenting (both of which are also becoming increasingly visible in the media), and we have an even more dramatic transition.
vents, and play dates, were with people of two-parent, heterosexual, legally married households. She felt compelled to find folk that reflected her family constellation so her son would see that, though they were unique, they were certainly not alone. The proactive actions of these moms worked to prevent isolation that could otherwise occur as a result of insufficient reflection in the face of the predominant parenting paradigm.