The Couple

I guess first thing's first: who are these people who even want to have a baby?  Ana is my wife, and my name is Sara.  We met at a queer dance party years ago.  It's a much longer story that involves a lot of facebook stalking, and deceit (mostly on my end), but regardless of my methods I got the girl and she married me so pretty much I won at love.


I am the one in the white dress.  I chose this picture because we look adorable, happy and very very wholesome.  We look like the kind of queers that people argue should be able to get married and have babies.  We're virtual poster children for queer rights.  I want to make it clear this is not always how we always look.

Sometimes we look like we have badass dance moves, are a little drunk, and more than a little sweaty but not as sweaty as my friend Quinn in the background (blue tank top).  Also, we look like we are so good at dancing neon green light shoots out of our arms. 

We realized pretty early on in our relationship that we both wanted kids.  It came up when we were talking about life goals and relationships, which was probably on our second date... lesbians... we're the worst.  What started as a nice night of drinking craft beers and talking about life devolved into tears.  The basic theme of the conversation was that we both wanted kids.  We both wanted kids so badly that we had come to the difficult decision we would have kids with or without a partner, and now - horror of horrors - here we were in love.  This put a hiccup in our plans of having kids no matter what, because two people in love who both want kids is not two, resigned to single parenthood, moms.  Which is what we had both envisioned for ourselves.  It is a loving couple with kids.  It is an almost traditional family.  I mean look at that white dress!  If Ana had a penis there would be no reason to read this blog at all.

It sounds like this should have been a loving moment of connection and shared future goals but really it wasn't.  I know at one point Ana uttered the words, "I trust you with my heart, I just don't know if I trust you with my babies."  I get it.  You want to vet the person you raise kids with and she hadn't had time to vet me yet.  To risk having your heart broken is one thing, but to risk raising kids with someone who might teach them to pull cats' tails, leave balled up wet towels on the bathroom floor, and not to accept and love themselves for who they are - that's a big risk.

I hope in the years that followed she accepted me as a potential co-parent.  I think I passed the test since we're on month three of trying to impregnate me.  Fingers crossed.