#queermom

Well, it is late or early in to the morning depending on how you want to look at it. I still have yet to write my five to eight page paper but I have managed to type away my finger print with googling. (Allow pause to pour myself a cup of coffee). I didn’t think five short months ago I would be here in this moment panicked if I will be mom enough to be recognized as a mom, living in Washington State I have protection, ”Protection”, the more I dig the deeper the hole goes and the more panic sets in. When starting this journey with B and choosing R I didn’t even think of the ramifications. It’s almost like we through caution to the wind and plunged into something a million times larger.  

When Baby H comes to us in five or ten years if ever she’s going to ask how she was made and I’m going to have to choke down my lukewarm coffee and sit her down. I’ve already played this out in my mind a million times. H when a mom and a mommy love each other and have a mutual belief that a child should be able to know their full DNA makeup they enlist the help of a friend. ( here not knowing if I should go into great detail holding up a syringe and Dixie cup).

In seriousness and truth, I have been on a three day bender of googling second-parent adoption, step-parent adoption, Parentage protection, and birth certificates.

I am going to say this, I have been fighting for my right to exist since I was able to form a sentence. I have been fighting for a voice being a young woman, I have fought for visibility as a queer teen and now I am fighting to be seen as a legitimate mother. When will my right to be here, to be accepted and acknowledged become normalized in everyday life? Some of us are waiting for our letters to be accepted in to Hogwarts and I’m just waiting to be accepted in to society. I need to be specific here and state this, I would not change the process on how We conceived or with whom because I am a firm believer that once conception happens the soul has entered the body and I do not for a second want to alter the perfect being that my wife is growing right now. I do I think I would have insisted on a donor donation contract. I can’t change the past now. I think in sealing a contract before hand I wouldn’t be worried over terminology at 2 in the morning. Who knows though maybe all the panic and fear and what if’s I am running is just the start to motherhood and I am getting a head start on feeling like I am damaging my child. That is a thing right? Feeling like every step we take is sealing the fate of our children? Maybe 2 am has made me a little sinister. 

In the mist of my hurried google searches at work I found a cute little article and a line resonated with me,”my child was not the product of a split relationship,but the creation of a joint vision.” That hit home right in my feelings, with all the googling and law jargon I had let a dark cloud piss on me, the best gift , and largest joy in my life. 

as you’re across town now

i can still feel you.

miles away i feel your warm sunset kissing the horizon of my eyelids.

and the world stands still

inside the light.

miles away i can still see your copper brown pools blinking around your pupils.

staring into me,

tearing into me,

opening into me,

a feeling without words.

miles away i can still smell the yearning on your breathe as your lips part with mine.

the scent of your hair when i close my eyes.

and the feeling of your hands touching my face so softy the wind misses me.

like water creeping into a drought filled valley after an unforgiving summer.

quenching the thirst of the life that heat made brittle.

i lay at the bottom of your valley as the water rushes in and lifts me slowly as i am taken by the current.

it carries me down. down.

going faster and faster i try to grab hold of something, anything, to lift me out.

wrapping my arms around your branches i pull myself up.

i crawl myself to the river bank.

and bury my hands in the wet earth still dry a foot deep because the rain hasn’t come long enough.

my hands sink in softly

taking a deep breath.

i breathe in the smell of your pollen.

your blooming white flowers dizzy me with scent.

and my mind reels.

giving me a sweet headache and a longing i can feel deep within.

i open and release.

you are filling and flowing into me now

to the places left untouched.

if i just learned to be me.

the girl that my father raised me to see

within myself.

a pillar of strength that goes back generations.

the head of a household that weak men and women had no business to run.

i come from generations of women left with children on their hips standing on doorsteps while Cadillacs burn tire marks on drive ways.

and by my own biology i was taught to stay.

through thick and thin, through death do us part.

but my counterpart, the third sex i was born with wants to run like forest.

away from jenny.

because she keeps running from me.

“she’s not the one for you” my dad says.

and by my own weakness i continuously see it through.

and each and every time i am left with half of myself.

but one day, with a roll of a dye, i will play a winning hand.

and the half of me that is still left will be fitted into a puzzle.

it will simple.

i will fit with her.

and she with me.

and together we will complete the puzzle.