I keep having these feelings like I’m the daddy.  By daddy, I mean both the father and the mac daddy. 

We were in LA, when Victoria was about 8 weeks pregnant, and I got out of bed before 8:00 a.m. to move the car because of street cleaning.  As I drove around, I thought:  Who’s that Daddy!  It felt really good.  

Happened to me again last night after we had shrimp for dinner.  I wrapped up the garbage with all those shrimp tails and took it outside.  

I don’t mean to perpetuate gender roles.  In my opinion, any pregnant person, man or woman, should not be taking out the stinky trash. 

Did you hear about the pregnant man?  A man, born a woman, but who transitioned into a man and who visibly looked like a man, got married to a woman, who couldn’t conceive and so he did.  He obviously kept his uterus.  I don’t know if he kept his vagina.  Maybe he needed a c-section.  Here he is:    
 This is so cool, really.  People are just people.  

 I told my mom I feel so lucky because I’m going to be a daddy.  

She said, “Don’t say that.”

I said, “Why?”

“It makes you sound so dyky.  It makes you sound like you have a mustache.”

Who says you have to be a dad to have a mustache?

If you are looking for fertility treatment, do NOT go to Dr. Attias.  He was our first fertility doctor here in Miami.  I called to ask some questions.  I said I was calling on behalf of my partner.  

The nurse who answered the phone said, “What do you mean, partner?”
I said, “We’re lesbians.  We’re partners.”

She said, “I’m sorry, we don’t provide fertility treatment for same sex partners.”

This was the worst discrimination I’ve ever experienced.  Ever, in 17 years of being a flaming dyke.  

The law in Florida allows sexuality discrimination as long as the doctor refers the patient to someone who does not discriminate.  Unbelievable.

So now we have Dr. Bustillo, who is the coolest, smartest, best doctor in Miami. 

My girlfriend and I were sitting in the waiting room at the fertility clinic this morning.  She asked me not to scream when they called her name.  I saw her point, it wasn’t Bingo. But while we waited an hour and a half to get our sperm defrosted, I started getting a little excited.  When the nurse opened the door and said, “Victoria,” I jumped up.  My hands flew into the air and I think I may have let out a little squeal.

I love our fertility clinic.  Dr. Bustillo runs the show.  She is sturdy and competent and no nonsense.  She doesn’t give a shit that we’re two lesbians sharing sperm and trying to raise a family.  And her staff is totally cool and supportive too.  If you need fertility treatments, go to Bustillo.

So they called us in, and somehow Victoria kept it cool.  At least on the outside.  I knew she was nervous because her cuticles were all cracked and bleeding, but still, I admired her composure.

The nurse, Lilly, was our inseminator, both days.  She showed Victoria the sperm sample.  Gave her the stats: fast and abundant.  Heated the speculum with warm water and put it in.

Today Lilly moved over and let me look inside.  Victoria’s cervix was front and center.  The cervix is the ball at the base of the uterus, the part of the body that gets swabbed in a pap smear.  Victoria’s looked about the size of a giant gum ball.  Lilly explained that there are two holes, like doors; an inner door and an outer door.  The holes are called the os.  I could see Victoria’s hole, wide and clear.  

I said, “Baby, you have a big os.” 

Lilly put the catheter into the hole, but it wouldn’t go all the way through.  The inner os was resisting.  Lilly said it was a strong muscle.

I said, “Baby, you have a tight os.”  

Finally Lilly got the catheter all the way into the uterus.   This is when I took off my jacket and with my thumb, I pushed the plunger, oh so slowly.  Who says a woman can’t knock someone up?

I’m a lesbian with sperm.  Today I got my sperm defrosted and held my girlfriend’s hand while the nurse practitioner knocked her up.  It felt so good.  Well, I didn’t feel anything.  Except excitement and love.  And a little nervousness, like what the hell are we doing trying to have a baby?   

I’ve been saying since the last time I was in this sort of position that I wanted to find myself a young wife. Because the last time, I was the one lying on my back with my legs open, and when the nurse practitioner left the room and instructed me to lie still for ten minutes, I actually did lie still for ten minutes.  This was me, the one holding the mirror.   When I was trying, five years ago, I bought ten vials of my favorite sperm.  Then I got pregnant on the second try, which is extremely lucky, I have since learned.  And as soon as I got pregnant I tossed out all ideas of having a big family with tons of kids because I HATED being pregnant.  My only hope, I thought, was to find myself a young wife.

I found her.  Except she’s 40, so we’ll see. 

Welcome to my blog.I’m Andrea Askowitz and I wrote a book that’s coming out in May, 2008 with Cleis Press. It’s called My Miserable, Lonely, Lesbian Pregnancy. You gotta read it. My mom says it’s a little self-indulgent. But, she followed that up with, “Of course it is, I mean, it’s a memoir.” So I think that’s a ringing endorsement. But don’t take my mom’s word for it.Take Rachel Pepper’s. She’s sassy and smart and wrote Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians. About 10 years ago, before I even started trying to get pregnant, I picked up her book and it helped me throughout my pregnancy. She said: “[My Miserable] is an occasionally despondent but usually hilarious tale… This is one book that should be mandatory reading.” 

Also, Louise Sloan, another smart and sassy woman, who wrote Knock Yourself Up, said something nice: “This is one whiny, bitchy pregnant lesbian–and you have to love her. Askowitz is funny and fearless in describing her journey to motherhood, complete with happy ending (the massage kind as well as the baby kind).” 

But if you don’t believe those women, you can buy for yourself and tell me what you think. Please do. And buy it for all the mothers in your life because it will be out just before Mother’s Day. But it’s not just for mothers, I promise. Men will like it too. They especially like the description of the baby coming through the birth canal. I’ve read this in front of mixed crowds and the men scream the loudest. Don’t know why really, but they do. For some reason you can get it at a reduced rate on Amazon.com or at Booksandbooks.com. I don’t understand why it’s on sale, even before it’s for sale, but it is. So, order it today and then one day in May you’ll get this box in the mail and you’ll be like, “Oh, a present for me! What is it?” And you’ll be so happy when you see My Miserable, Lonely, Lesbian Pregnancy.   

Thank you for reading my blog!