Baby Bait

What everyone is too politically correct to tell you - and yet every parent secretly knows - is that having a newborn baby is like having a cute puppy: everyone on the street suddenly stops to talk to you.

Its interesting. I've been frequenting the same grocery store, the same coffee shop, and the same library for many moons. No one knows, no one cares. And then suddeny I show up with a baby. A cute baby. Now everybody wants to be my friend. Verrrrrrrrrrrrrrry interesting.

Diaper Dating

My daughter and I celebrated her 2-week birthday this week by (drumroll please ....) going out on our first date as a team.

No, not kidding.

A guy had contacted me on Plenty of Fish a few weeks ago. We corresponded, I told him I was expecting a baby via a gestational carrier, and then didn't hear from him for a while. Of course, I figured that news had been enough to freak him out. Wasn't I surprised to get a call from him a few days after I brought my daughter home from the hospital? The call went a little something like this:

"Hello" (that's me, exhausted and trying to lug the baby in carseat, diaper bag, and shopping bag into the house)

"Hey, Liv, this is Bob from Plenty of Fish. Is this a good time for you to talk?"

"Um, actually, no Bob. My baby was born this week and I'm trying to carry her into the house."

How's that for Dating Etiquette 101?

Again, I thought I'd never hear back from Bob, and yet he called a week later. After speaking he asked me out for dinner. I don't like to go out for dinner on a first date - its too big a commitment of time, energy and resources. Plus, I hate the whole 'Who's paying the bill?' gig. So I slipped in:

"Bob, it would be easier for me to meet for coffee, if you don't mind. I'll have my daughter with me and it's easier to plan for a short period of time."

And then it hit me ... having a child is a great dating accessory! I can blame everything on her now. Wow, they never mention this in Dr. Spock.

So we met for coffee. I didn't have to go throught the awkward desciption of what I look like -- hell, how many single women are in Starbucks on a Wednesday night with a baby?

Ironically, the conversation with Bob was one of the best I've had in months. I wonder if having a baby is also a good screening tool? All men too immature to date a woman with a child at this age need not apply.

Lucy needed a bottle half way through the date and I whipped one out and fed it to her -- imagine how awkward this would have been if I breastfed! A few minutes later I told Bob we needed to go home to avoid a meltdown. He walked us out to the parking lot and went for the dreaded first-date-parking-lot hug. But it is difficult to hug someone when they are blocking you with a 6 lb. baby in a carseat -- again, points for Lucy! Bob settled for the arm squeeze instead, and I didn't have to decide whether or not to reciprocate because my arms were full.

I'm not sure if I'll hear from Bob again. If I do, great, If not, great.

I'm too happy and exhausted to worry about what he thought, whether or not he will call, whether or not I should call him, and whether or not I care. But this date was very important to me because it is living proof that being a Mom and Dating and not mutually exclusive. And it proves what I've already begun to suspect --- Lucy and I make a great team.

Sperm in a Latte Cup

Lucy and I walked (okay, she rode) into my favorite independent coffee shop today. I'm a regular at this shop and read my newspaper with a French Roast in there every week after racewalking.

The 40-something owner said to me, "Who is this?"
"This is my daughter, Lucy"
"No, seriously, who is this?"
"I'm serious Luke, this is my baby daughter."

Silence. Looks at me, looks at her, looks at me. Contemplation.

"How?"
"I used a surrogate (gestational carrier was just too much to ask).
Do you know what that is?"
"No."
"I couldn't carry a pregnancy, so I found another woman to carry my baby for me."

Silence. Looks at me, looks at her, looks at me. Contemplation.

"Where did the sperm come from?"
Okay, we're getting a big personal here, but I can handle it.

"I used a donor."
"You used a donor? Why? I would have given you mine! You know I have 6 children, including twins! Why didn't you ask me?"

I'm picturing this conversation in my head, "Hey honey, guess what I gave a customer today in one of our latte cups ???"

"Gee, thanks Luke, I appreciate that."
"I'm serious! The next time, you use mine."

Would this entitle me to a free scone with my French Roast each week ?
Just wondering.

Happy Hour, reworked

Happy hour used to mean standing around drinking cold beer in a room full of 'young professionals', all pretending not to notice each other while attempting to eat jalapeno poppers without spilling hot cheese on their work clothes. Ohhhhh, good times folks.

Happy hour has a new meaning since my daughter arrived, rather early, 12 days ago. Happy hour now refers to the 60 minutes per day when we're both awake, neither of us is crying or pooping, and we're staring at each other thinking, "I can't believe this is happening."

Yes, my daughter is here. It actually worked. It actually worked.

I look back over the past few years of dating, break-ups, single mothers by choice meetings, pregnancies, miscarriages, surgeries, fertility treatments, surrogate hunting, more fertility treatments, failed cycles, and then a pregnancy! Followed by 36 weeks of ultrasounds, doctors appointments, and then .... a baby. Holy shit, it actually worked.

(As an aside, I can't believe that some people get one of these babies by just having sex. Are you serious???)

And now my life has changed forever. All the naysayers told me that I'd never sleep again, never date again, never travel again, never have fun again. And while I'll admit that simple tasks such as a run to the grocery store have suddenly become much more complicated, I say, 'Bring it on'. I'll trade this happy hour for a bud light and a jalapeno popper any day.