Telling My Sons

Last night, Max and I went to the "First Trimester Class" at my new OB's office.  I think this is a great idea for new parents, and I thought that Max would get a lot out of it.  Turns out, it wasn't all that riveting, and we had a dinner date to get to, so we bugged out by 7:00pm.  Our dinner date was with my boys at the Spaghetti Factory.  It's our family restaurant of choice when there is something to celebrate.

Max and I were there when the boys arrived.  We had a very nice time.  The boys caught Max up on all of their big goings on and we played many rounds of tic-tac-toe while waiting for our dinners.  We even let them get refills on their sodas because it was a special night.

As the spumoni ice cream was being delivered, I said, "Well guys, tonight we're celebrating. Do have an idea why?"

"Because Survivor: Heroes Versus Villains comes on tomorrow?" Davis said.

"No.  Not that, but I admit that IS awesome," I said.  "Actually, we're celebrating because, you know how I've been trying all year to help Max and Bob have a family?"

"Yeah," they said in unison.

"Well, it worked.  Max and Bob are expecting a baby and it's in my belly growing right now."

There was a bit of stunned silence and Chet reached over and tried to pull my shirt up.  "In there?  You got a baby in there, Mom?"

"Max's baby, honey.  This is Max and Bob's baby.  I'm just carrying it for them." 

Davis hadn't said anything.  He was fixed on his ice cream, pushing it around the tiny metal cup with his spoon. 

"Davis, are you OK with this?  Do you have any questions?" I asked.

"Naw." He didn't look up.  It was a lot to process.  "I wasn't expecting that," he said.

I flipped a paper placemat over on the table and grabbed a crayon and drew stick figures, explaining how the donor cells and Max's cells were mixed together to make embryos.  Then I pulled out my phone and showed the boys a picture of the three dividing cells that the doctors put in my belly.  Finally, I showed them the recent ultrasound pictures and it became very real.  Davis was a little reluctant to look, but eventually came around.

"So, since Max and I are almost like brother and sister since we've grown up together, you guys will be like uncles to this baby," I said.

"I'm gonna call it 'Little Joe,'" said Davis. 

"You want to know what we're going to name the baby?" asked Max.  The boys nodded. "It's going to be named Davis.  Whether it's a girl or a boy, in honor of your mom, of your family, of some of our other friends named Davis.  We're going to call the baby Davis.  What do you think?"

"I'm still gonna call it 'Little Joe,'" said Davis.  We all chuckled.

With that, we wrapped up our evening and headed to our cars and said good night. All the way home, both boys talked about how cool it was that they were going to be uncles.  Chester was talking in a baby voice saying, "Oh I just wuv babies.  Their tiny feets and their witto toes and teeny hands.  I'm going to babysit and change its diapers and cuddle it and hold it." 

"Chester," I said.  "You know this baby isn't staying with us.  It's going to be with Max and Bob, right?"

"I know Mom, but I'm going to see it a lot," he said. 

When we got home it was time for bed.  I kissed both boys good night and both boys said, "Good night Little Joe," to my belly. 

In the morning, before leaving for school today, they kissed me goodbye and patted my tummy.  I was glad that they were embracing this, as we had been talking about it for a year now.  I was concerned with whether they'd still be on board once it worked. 

And then, the phone call after school.  Davis and Chet went to their dad's house today.  I told their dad a few months ago of my intentions to help Max and he was against it; another shining testimony to why I divorced him.  He got engaged recently and re-found Jesus.  Apparently, as I've heard from a few others too, Jesus doesn't like gay people.  My former spouse and his new fiance recently wrote me a very lengthy Nasty-gram which included this gem:

Your judgment comes into great question when you put your children's views and feelings aside to become a serrogate mother for two gay men. Your children were embarassed and mortified when they learned of your plans, which they came to us about.

Note: I left their spelling errors intact for this direct quote.  They are both working in or around the medical profession, so I think it's interesting to note that they do not know how to spell surrogate.  They went on to say that I have a personality disorder and that I need mental help. 

What do you think my sons are being fed at dad's house?  The phone rings at 4:15pm.

"Mom?" says Chet.  He's crying.

"Mom, I have to tell you that I think what you're doing is wrong.  You shouldn't do this.  Max and Bob's kid is going to get teased.  Mom, do you know how many people at school say 'gay?' like it's a bad thing?  Kids are going to tease me at school Mom!" he says between sobs. 

I have envisioned how the scene went down after school.  Chet went in, excited to tell his dad about the baby, and his dad squashed it with religious dogma and paranoid views.  It probably crushed Chet and he probably started crying and told his dad he doesn't think I should do it either.  They'll do anything to please their dad.

"And Mom, the Bible says it's wrong.  And also, you've been on hormones for a year Mom and you've been crazy for a year," he said. 

What could I say?  Here was my boy that I was so proud of for being such a loving, kind old soul, telling me he's ashamed of me now.  My sons are my whole life.  How they feel is all that matters to me and here he was, telling me he's embarrassed of me.  I felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest.  Though I knew it was coming from their dad, it killed me to hear it and it breaks my heart knowing they're forced to think that way when they're there.  They live these two separate lives in their two houses.  It's infinitely sad.

"Chet, I'm sorry you feel that way.  This isn't how you felt last year and it isn't how you left the house this morning.  You were the one who really supported it.  All I can say is, you might not always agree with my choices, but they're mine to make.  I'm 38 and you are 9.  When you are 38, I may not like a few choices you make, but I will always love the person you are."

"But Mom, it's wrong!" he said, choking on his tears.

"Chet, I'm not going to talk about this on the phone anymore.  If you want to come to the house and talk to me, you can, but I'm not going to listen to this right now."

"K.   Bye." he said.

"Bye honey.  I love you."

I put the phone down and started to cry and I haven't stopped since. 

My mom called during my meltdown and said, "I'm so sorry honey that what he said hurt you, but this will happen again and again.  Kids are always going to break their parents' hearts."

There is no pain like the one you feel when your child says he's ashamed that you are his parent, especially when everything that you've ever done after he arrived on this planet was for him. 

He sent me a text a little while ago: "Sorry. I just wanted to get my feelings out and tell you how I feel."

My reply: "Don't apologize babe.  You can always share your feelings with me.  Feelings can sometimes change, too.  I feel like I made a decision from a place of love and care for my dear friend.  I love you and I believe in me, you, and us.  It will be OK no matter what, my boy.  You and Dae are my heart."

I did not know who I was before my sons.  Nothing was important before they arrived.  I do not know if I will ever be enough for my sons, but I continue to stay my course with the hope that one day they can see me the way I want them to see me.  I made a promise to myself to make big, life decisions only from a place of love, not fear; and that is what I'll continue to do. I can not fear how others will view this, even my own sons, because I love Max and he will be a great father.  I love that my sons get to be a part of creating a family that goes beyond genetics.  No matter what hurtful things my boys say to me, I know I'm a good mother and that they love me.

This deep saddness in my heart is raw right now, though I know time will heal. 

But time moves too slowly, sometimes.