Monthly Archives: July 2013

In This Country…

Leading up to the SCOTUS rulings on DOMA and Prop 8 I was slightly obsessed. I checked the SCOTUS blog as soon as I got to work each morning and every day, only to find out they weren’t going to be announced that day. Finally, the day was set. I made sure I came to work early so that I wouldn’t be biking to work unplugged during the announcement. If she didn’t think so before, my boss surely thinks I’m a weirdo now. I explained to her the day before that I was going to be listening to Sen. Wendy Davis filibuster the out of control gynoticians in Texas and their short-sighted, over the top restrictive anti-woman, anti-family, anti-child legislation while I promised to work feverishly to make up for accidentally paying too much attention to Davis’ speech.

After staying up WAY too late (it was so worth it) and waking up early to get to work in time, I barely made it. I pulled up the SCOTUS blog right before it was announced. The text messages started rolling in and didn’t stop all day. We cried, we laughed, we celebrated, and we talked about getting legally married. Even though we live in a state that will never recognize same sex marriage (until the feds say they have to) it was a great day. The best word I can use to describe my feelings about it is relief. I felt relief that it will change, and SOON. I made a bet with my wife 2 years ago that our marriage would be recognized in the state we lived (assumed to be Utah) within 10 years. Wifey said no way no how. I, the always optimist, said just you wait. The wager: a honeymoon in Fiji to celebrate our legal marriage. I’ve got 8 years to win that trip and I’m feeling pretty good about it.

This back story has a point I promise. We just went to Mexico for a week. It was amazing, beautiful, fun, and much needed.  On the way back home we had to fill out our customs forms of course, one per family. I insisted that we just fill one out, since we are a family and all. I know they don’t ask hetero couples to bring their marriage license. Jamie was not so excited about the idea of being an activist. We were flying into Texas, home of George Dubya and the newest anti-woman legislation. I insisted because I refuse to let anyone define my family and especially to say that we are not a family. We waited forever in line and finally we were up and this is basically how the conversation went:

Customs: What’s the nature of your relationship?

Jamie: We are married

Customs: Well you should know that this country doesn’t consider you a family

Jamie: I’m sure you have heard of DOMA and how it was just ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Court

Customs: It doesn’t matter, it will take years for it be implemented down here

Jamie: Well then we are sisters

Customs: You would still need two forms (as he stamps our passports) Welcome Home.

Seriously. Of course all of the witty comebacks came after we left and were fuming. I didn’t expect a big gay parade or anything. I expected surprise, but not hostility and certainly didn’t expect to be told that my country doesn’t consider us a family. I know it’s better than it was, even 5 years ago, and I know that honeymoon in Fiji will happen but I get tired of the implicit and explicit discrimination, outing, and just plain hatred we have to deal with.

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How did we get here from there

It was Pride weekend 2008 (wow that makes me feel old) I was headed to the annual white party at the local lesbian club. I went with some friends and met up with the woman I was dating at the time. A good friend of mine, Shorty, introduced me to a woman I had never seen or met before, which is rare in the lesbian community where we live. I noticed Jamie before my friend introduced us and I was like da da da da damn. Okay, it was more like violins and butterflies and rays of sunshine, but the point is I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She just thought I was a hard ass, which of course I am.

About a month later Shorty and I were headed to the same lesbian bar. It must have been a full moon that night. Right before we went to the bar the woman I was dating broke up with me and on the way to the bar Angie and her girlfriend broke up. Jamie called Angie and asked if she could hang out with us. She and her girlfriend had just broken up a couple of weeks ago. So, there we were…. three sad saps at the bar listening to sad love songs and playing pool. Jamie and I started talking and were pretty immediately drawn to each other. I had just started as an AmeriCorps VISTA and she was in the process of joining the Peace Corps, we both loved the outdoors and were passionate about social justice.

A couple of weeks later Jamie asked me to meet up with them at the club. I swear I was not one those lesbians that went to the bar every week. These were the only three instances of me going to said bar the entire year. Jamie asked me to dance with her all night. I’m shy and kept saying no. Finally, before I left we danced a dance full of smiles, fireworks and pterodactyls (bigger than butterflies). After I got home I asked Shorty for Jamie’s number, Jamie had just done the same. Great minds think alike. So of course we started doing what modern introverts do…texting a lot. Sometimes Jamie forced me to talk on the phone, which I was super self-conscious about because I had bronchitis and sounded like an 80 year old male smoker. We went camping, had our first kiss by the lake, I impressed her with my intense scooter driving skills, and we have been stealing kisses by bodies of water around the world ever since.

We talked about whether we wanted kids or not during probably our second conversation ever and agreed that we both wanted kids and wanted to foster/adopt at some point, when the legislative system catches up with humanity.  Logically, this sealed the deal and we moved in together shortly after. I proposed after selling my plasma for months and we got married on the beach in California. Yes it was after Prop 8, but we wanted a ceremony on the beach.

Fast forward through moving across the country, going to graduate school at the same time (yikes), debating whether or not to move back to the land of zion, moving across the country again, living in a camper trailer, buying a house….and drumroll please: we are now making gaybies!

I am going to carry the first because I’m old. Jamie started telling me I was almost 30 since we met (I was 25 at the time). We’ve picked a donor we will call Socrates (more about this interesting process in a separate post). Our first insemination is planned for August at home, hoping to be one of those lucky couples that get pregnant after just 3 tries.

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