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.

Nine

Vanessa sent me a text yesterday that read, 'Nine!'. We're no longer counting up, we're counting down. And considering that she has never gone beyond 38 weeks and has gone as early as 36, nine weeks seems like a stretch.

Is it normal for any expectant Mom to think about how her life will change, how she'll handle everything, and what she should expect? I would guess so. My reflections may be slightly different than the average woman living in the suburbs with her husband and her 2-car garage, but I imagine we all go through the, 'What will my life be like?' stage.

I'm looking forward to the day when I can stop saying I'm expecting a daughter and have a startled person glance at my wedding ring finger and then my stomach in confusion. Once she is here, they can just look at my ring finger.

I'm looking forward to the day when I can simply tell a guy I meet that I have a daughter, and can stop going through the 'I'm a single mother by choice using a gestational carrier' schpiel. Really folks, it would be easier to explain a sex change operation.

I'm looking forward to the day when I can stop asking Vanessa what my daughter is doing and can just hold her and see her myself.

I'm looking forward to the day when the boat arrives. I can almost see the sail on the horizon.

Billboards

One of the greatest lessons I've learned was taught to me when I was 25 years old. A co-worker said, "Have you ever noticed that most people point out their insecurities to you within the first 15 minutes of meeting them?" I started paying close attention and ... its true! A guy at my reunion greeted me with hello and the admission that he'd gained 20 pounds. A woman mentioned that her nose is too big. Another offered that her boyfriend is 12 years younger than she, and looks even younger. A friend goes on and on about a non-existent imperfection on her forehead. And the crazy thing is ... I truly hadn't noticed any of these things on my own (and I'm quite observant) - but as soon as these statements were made, those issues were on a billboard in bright lights.

This observation made me look at myself and how often I do the same. If someone compliments my outfit, do I say, "Oh thank you, but these pants are too tight - I've gained 5 lbs this month" or simply, "Thank you!" I think in the past it may have been A, but I now strive for B whenever possible.

I thought I had this approach down to a tee, but I think it deserves a second look.

Case in point: in my own mind, the approach I'm taking to my life makes perfect sense. I have not yet met the man I want to marry, I know I want children, now is the time. Done. But my inner voice has been saying, "This is the right thing to do, but other people will think its kind of freaky for a 40-year old woman to have a baby on her own, using a gestational carrier. Freaky x 2. Especially for men in my dating pool".

Have I been projecting this viewpoint and posting it on a billboard on I-95? I ask because today I was at a Memorial Day picnic at my friend's house. He has a fairly traditional story. Met a girl, fell in love, got pregnant, became engaged, got married, had a baby, bought a house, pregnant with baby #2. Okay, not exactly the order he'd planned, but damn close. Their friends and family members were at this picnic and I've met everyone multiple times over the years. I suspected they might know my story ahead of time, and they did. There were a few joking comments about how great I look for this stage of pregnancy, but other than that, no Freak Show looks. Few Freak Show questions. Only happiness and excitement for me. End of story.

And once the baby is born, my pregnancy history is last week's New York Times - no one cares. And then I'm just another single mother back in the dating scene -- only without the baggage of an Ex. No headlines here.

And so, on this Memorial Day weekend, the billboard is coming down and making room for yet another Dunkin' Donuts sign.