Full Circle

I wrote this post a couple of months ago, but for reasons that will become clear as you read, waited until now (December 16, 2009 - for some reason the original post date is still at the top) to share it...

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Two and a half years ago, in the spring of 2007, I was in the midst of exploring my options for getting pregnant. I had picked out a sperm bank, had some favorite donors in mind, but hadn't yet figured out how to actually make my inseminations happen. I checked out the Alternative Insemination Program at Fenway Health in Boston, but it seemed like a long way to drive and a lot of hoops to jump through. I called around in Rhode Island, but the one big fertility clinic in town seemed to be really geared toward straight couples with fertility problems. As a single queer, my insurance wouldn't cover a penny of any treatments (see my rant on this here), and the people at the clinic were so used to dealing with insurance companies that they couldn't even tell me how much it would cost to do my inseminations there.

And then, there was the other thing, which was that I really wanted my baby to be conceived at home, without a lot of drugs and doctors and unfamiliar exam rooms. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that those things exist, and thrilled for the technologies that allow people to become parents who might otherwise not. But, it didn't feel like the right fit for me.

So, I started googling like mad, doing my research, and figuring out how to make a baby at home. I got my doctor at the University Health Clinic to sign off on my sperm bank forms. I ordered various catheters and specula and obsessively tracked my basal body temperature. And, I started talking to my friends to see if anyone would actually help me do the inseminations themselves.

A casual friend mentioned that her partner was a nurse, and had previously worked in a women's health clinic. Her partner and I made a date for tea, and talked it over. She had never performed an intrauterine insemination, or IUI, before, but she had done many similar procedures and felt that she could figure it out. Most importantly, she shared my ethos that reproductive choices should be available outside of the mainstream healthcare system. In fact, when we began to research it all, she said, "This is great - when X and I start trying for our own baby in a few years, you can help us!"

And so, that's how I got pregnant. At home, with a bunch of friends, a vial of sperm, and a tomcat catheter.

Two and a half years after my first insemination, a lot has changed. Relationships have ended, people have left, new people have arrived. I got my heart broken, and then fell madly in love. So did several of my friends. And of course, I am the parent of a marvelous toddler who I could barely imagine back then.

However, the one couple from my group of friends who has stuck it out all this time are the ones who performed my inseminations back then. Once casual acquaintances, they are now two of my favorite people, the kind of friends who make me feel rooted and secure in the world. A few weeks ago, I was privileged to assist them in their own inseminations. Like mine, they happened at home, at odd hours, with candles burning, friends close by, and a tank of sperm hanging out in the hallway. It was such a powerful emotional experience, to feel that together with the people I love, we were trying to make a baby.

Yesterday I was walking past their door on my dog walk, and they called me in. There was champagne on the table and a small alter of candles with a pregnancy test in the middle. It said, "pregnant."

I'm so excited for them, and excited for us as well. Excited that Ocean will have a playmate, possibly right in her own backyard. Excited that we have traveling partners on the exhilarating and sometimes rocky journey of queer parenting. Excited to know that sometimes when you put all that love and intention out into the universe, sometimes you get a new life in return.

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update: I waited to post this until my friends made it through the first trimester and started to publicly share their news. I remain thrilled beyond measure to be a part of their lives, and can't wait to meet the newest member.