Friday, 14 October 2011

Full moons and fiery skies..

If anyone had asked me three years ago if I thought I would be pregnant by now, I would have been absolutely sure of it, maybe pregnant again with a toddler already. I think there are different stages you go through as a lesbian trying to start a family, the first one being hopefulness and excitement ( after the confusing, drawn-out, expensive process of choosing a donor and getting screened to become a parent by complete strangers). I was certain we were going to be one of those lucky couples, that it was going to happen on the first or second try,  that the universe was going to align its magic in our favour because we wanted it that bad.

I remember the first time we drove to Kelowna, Venessa’s parents took us that time, it was May and all the fruit trees were in bloom.  I didn’t talk much the two days it took us to drive to the fertility clinic. I mostly stared out the window deep in thought/manifestation/excitement/nervousness/omgarewereallyreadyforthis!...looking over at Venessa now and then exchanging smiles. Oh we were so young and na├»ve back then! 

We put a smiley face sticker on the bottom of the chair in the insemination room for good luck and every time we went back we checked that it was still there.  The whole thing took about 5 minutes from start to end. We walked out of the fancy glass building hand in hand and met Venessa’s very excited parents outside, that was easy!

That night we went to dinner at a lovely Mexican restaurant, it was Cinco de Mayo and a man in a huge sombrero and dark brown skin played the guitar at our table. The others were drinking pitchers of margaritas but I stuck to water because oh my god I could be pregnant already!!!

Needless to say it didn't happen for us that time. Or the next, or the next 4 times after that. I remember each and every one of my inseminations with an almost unhealthy clarity. I wanted to remember so I could tell our future child of that spectacular time when we had to drive through smoke and fiery red skies or that time the full moon was so big and low in the sky and I sat in the car outside the doctors’ office at 6 am and let the light from the moon soak through my entire being thinking this is it, this has to be it.  I wanted look back and tell those stories with enthusiasm and grave exaggeration looking into big blue eyes pleading “Tell the story again of when I was made!”   

Driving through fierce forest fire country, this was in the middle of the day!

The smiley sticker

Thursday, 6 October 2011


“You should start a blog!” “You need to write about our lives, we do pretty cool stuff you know?” Maybe there’s people out there going through the same things as us and would love to read about our life” Venessa has been bugging me for months to start a blog. Truth is I’m kind of (really) self conscious about putting all these words and pictures out there, I barely share myself with the people I know, how can I share with...the infinite internet? 

I write a lot. I always have, just me and a new word document and the blinking marker waiting patiently for my next move. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for me to type rather than talk, you can’t take pauses when you talk. You can’t go for a walk in the middle of a conversation with a friend and go for a walk to clear you mind before you continue your sentence. So I often end up saying nothing, or very little, but in my head and fingertips there’s whole books full of memories and thoughts, volumes of everyday stories and poems. And I sometimes wonder if I’m really going to walk through life being an untold story. I think my biggest fear is leaving here without anybody really knowing who I was. Portraying a pale, distant and foggy version of the full spectrum of a person. So why not? Why not use the only way I have ever known how to express myself.

So there you have it, my first blog post. I did it.