Can we talk about how sexism is magnified in pregnancy for a minute?

I have been looking for ways to announce that we're pregnant when that time comes. In doing so I have found that the shitty parts of being a woman are magnified during pregnancy. Oh, Ashley, you're being a feminist kill-joy again. Probably, but for good reason. Let's take a look:

"Oh no! I'm going to get F-A-T. That's just the worst thing in the world. Fat is awful, horrible, the worst thing I can be." Sure, it's cute and clever, but the underlying joke is that the mom-to-be is internalizing fat-phobia and the joke is that she doesn't want to weather the valley of shadows of being fat alone. Pretty shitty when you break it down.

Here is one that is more subtle. The woman is glad she FINALLY gets to eat! Oh joy! To finally have an excuse to satisfy my shameful desires! I can eat without shame! Again, man gets to have beer belly to not leave pregnant wife alone in the slums of fat city. 

Again, riff on the theme of "Woman released from the bondage of shame around desire in b-fat" I mean b-flat. New shitty theme, terrified dad. You know, because men are incompetent and incapable of nurturing small humans.

Again, men are the worst. How is this poor lady going to parent her partner AND her child? Cue laugh track.

I don't get the humor here. I mean, I get it:"Having kids is awful. What have I done?" But, why is what funny? You know condoms are a thing right?

Men r dum, am I right? 

Seriously, is a non-supportive spouse really adorable? 

I mean, should I really be surprised that yucky sexism sneaks into every crevice in our lives? Or that one of the most gendered occasions should be rife with it? Likely not, but I am still irked. I think the worst part of it is that it is so internalized, it's cute and funny, and we're not aware of how damaging these ideas are to ourselves and the small people we're raising.

Let's unpack the fat-phobic thing. Women, from obnoxiously early ages are taught to deny and control themselves. We're not supposed to speak up for fear of being called bossy, we're not to eat too much to watch our girlish figures, we shouldn't drink too much/walk alone at night/dress too slutty so we don't get raped, we're taught to dress modestly in school to protect our virgin purity and not distract the boys, we're taught to achieve a thigh gap is a measure of worth- that our thinness is an inverse to our value, we want "just salads" at restaurants "just" and "salad" being a double negation of desire, we're supposed to let boys make the first move- say "I love you" first- propose first. I could go on, but you get the point. If you're a woman, you know exactly what I am talking about. 

In pregnancy this seems to manifest in fat-phobia and the bizarre dance around your growing body and claiming self worth. So, now you can eat! You have an excuse! It's ok to get fat, you're pregnant! Suddenly, you are given PERMISSION to allow yourself to express your desires around food. But, hubby needs to eat too! You're both going to get fat! It's ok, you'll go lose the baby weight immediately and wear one of those horrible postpartum girdles that tightens your belly and hides all of your pregnant gastronomical indiscretions. 

How awful and toxic is this message? Why is it a celebration that you can eat? You should always be eating, you are human and need food! You are a human person full of passion and desire, why should you have to mute that because you were born female? Also, fat isn't the end of the world. Fat is an adjective. I am fat. I am also a wife, baker, pet owner, gardner/farmer, college grad, artist, gender queer, human. Fat is part of me. Fat doesn't make all of those other things less. It doesn't make me any less-than. Fat helps your baby grow and develop. Also, having a fat lower half makes smarter babies. So....settle down.

The other thing that bothers me is that NONE of this stuff that these women are eating is remotely good for them or their baby. They've denied themselves "treats" like these for so long, that's all they're excited to eat. In early pregnancy, many of baby's vital organs are one cell, if you are exposed to toxins or stress while they're forming, you could cause an abnormality. Not to be another voice of shame for eating for women, and not to say cake and chips is going to cause your kids heart to explode, but this denial/binge cycle is another impediment to maintaining healthy eating patterns to promote healthy development. I mean, eat cake for breakfast, but get good protein and greens for dinner and snack on nuts, seeds, fruits and veggies all day. Or, aim for 6 really good meals a week, and be easy on yourself. You know, normal healthy eating with snacks in moderation? 

Let's talk about the icky sexism towards men. Men are not awful, incompetent creatures. These jokes are damaging to encourage that idea. If your partner isn't on board with a pregnancy, it isn't funny, it's a problem. If you're not in a place to get pregnant, you should be taking precautions. (I realize this is not possible for all people, but I don't think that those without options are the ones pictured above making fun of how awful it is to be pregnant or have more kids). 

Dads are not "baby sitters". They are your partner, the other parent. Men are capable of nurturing, staying at home to care for children, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry....I promise, I have seen it! It isn't funny to say otherwise. 

These themes of sexism don't end there. As a pregnant person, you're not supposed to watch upsetting things. In the bible there is a story about a dude with only striped goats given to him by someone who said, "mine are solid colored, yours are striped, I'll know you stole if I find solid ones in your herd". So dude man peels bark off trees around goats, knowing that they'll see the stripes while mating and make striped babies. So, basically my baby is going to come out either like Kimmie Schmidt or Jake or Finn. I'm rooting for Jake. Magical dog baby would be cool. 

Personally, I am pretty stoked to shake things up just by being two female presenting people having a baby. So many of these announcements are meant for straight couples with both partners present. If you google "gay/lesbian/queer pregnancy announcement" there just isn't a lot. There isn't much out there either for women who have chosen to raise a baby alone. So, we're brainstorming something to rock a few boats. 

I mean "First, girlfriends, then donut married at Voodoo Donuts because marriage wasn't legal, then elopement while the supreme court decided our human rights, then baby via donor = mommy and mommy." I don't know, that seems pretty catchy!

 People always accuse queer couples of trying to rip the  fabric of society apart, and I usually argue pointing to our totally heteronormative republican wet-dream of a life (I mean, except us being two ladies) and how queer people are totally just people...buut if the fabric you're talking about is woven out of jokes and messages in the birth announcements above: I'm getting the scissors.

There are plenty of cute announcements out there. When the time comes, we'll do something cute. It'll be clever, queer, cute, and if it's funny, the joke won't be rooted in sexism. 

Preparing, Inseminating, and the Long Wait

Another part of my midwife's self-care plan was castor oil wraps. They're supposed to heal scar tissue in your abdomen, and judging from my reaction to the abdominal massage, I had some demons lurking around my midsection. You're supposed to soak flannel in warm oil, plastic wrap it, put a thick towel over it and heat it with a heating pad. So, again I was being marinated.

The treatment was mean to be accompanied by meditation. You're supposed to imagine the healing, imagine your love for your future baby, your connection to your partner. I've always meant to get into meditating. I feel like in another less tortured life, I'd be really spiritual and really into yoga. But, this isn't my life. I know it will be good for me, but I think my self-sabotaging gets in the way of my confronting my self-sabotaging. Anyway, I'm not really good at meditating unless it's forced like on long runs.

I tried really hard to imagine love. All I felt was rage. Un-specified rage. It took me nearly a half hour to search it out, just passing through my subconscious like, "Hey, do you know what's up? Why are we mad?" Howling out of nowhere came a scream. "Why did no one love us this much?" Old ghosts never seem to die.

Tarra came to sit with me, and laid her head on my stomach. She was meditating love for me. I kept my hurt to myself, figuring someone should send positive vibes to my abdomen. She held my hand and just laid there, breathing with me. I know that's how she passed my advanced self-security system meant to keep everyone out: she's just so gentle and easy, you can't help but love her.

I could feel her start to cry. "What's wrong, beautiful?" "I'm just so sad I can't make a baby with you. I mean, we're making a baby with all of our actions, but it just feels so out of my hands at the same time. I wish it could really be ours."

I felt so bad for her. This has to be so hard. This will be OUR child, legally, emotionally, culturally, in every way except that seems to satisfy some irrational biological need. But, just because it's irrational, doesn't invalidate it.

We talked to our midwife and told her that we would like to take over inseminations. Just try at home for awhile on our own. Who knows, we might get lucky?! Even if we don't, it will feel more like we're making the baby together. The midwife was really supportive and came by to drop of some specimen jars and needless syringes should we want to use them.

It doesn't have to be "turkey baster" method, you know. If you're reading this trying to start this process yourself, know there are options! There is the Semenette, there are cervical caps, and many, many other things people have done to make it less medicalized and something more comfortable. Just because some babies are made through sex, it doesn't have to be that way either. Some people choose not to sexualize the experience at all. You might also consider that the baby isn't "made" at the time of insemination. It could happen a WEEK later.

For us, we talked endlessly about it. I felt weird that while I have dated men, it was not something I enjoyed. Early in my life, I didn't realize gay was an option. I was pretty relieved when I did.

  So, it was weird for me to have a penis involved in part of my life that was so important. Let alone, this was someone's penis that was not my partners. So, I went back and forth. Should it be sexual? Should we just do it and pretend my vagina wasn't full of semen and watch TV while I laid upside down practically, rotating occasionally? Orgasms are supposed to increase the likelihood of conception, right? Or, do you not orgasm because you want a boy? Ask the internet and literature on this subject carefully, and  grab the tylenol, it's a shit storm of conflicting information.

In the end, we didn't really get to choose. We were waiting to sign the donor agreement until the first weekend of February, with my ovulation predicted that second weekend. I had been monitoring my cycles for a few months, and while they had become more regular, they were not really....predictable. I realized that we had to expedite everything as my LH strips got darker. Expedite like, "Hey, can you meet us at the Notary in the UPS store by your work downtown, sign the paper, then come over and donate?" Yeah, it was that romantic.

We cleaned to house, made sure we had food to give to our donor, and discussed receptacles. We tested a few different sized mason jars with the needless syringes to make sure we could reach the bottom, set them out along side a specimin jar, and a tea cup I love but can't use because the handle fell off. I offered them all up to our donor, telling him to use whatever called to him.

We let our donor have the house and we took the dog for a walk. We snap chatted our friend in Colorado, like you do as a millennial, before getting a text that he was done. Tarra had to drive him back to the lightrail, and left me holding the mason jar. I just tried not to make eye contact. The insemination itself was awkward. The laying upside down was awkward. Existing for the first time with semen in my body was awkward. Our poor sperm donor felt awkward. It was all around uncomfortable.

We had him come back two days later, when my LH strip was super dark. It was far less awkward, but still not any kind of magical I think we're supposed to feel when making a baby. Oh well, life is messy but beautiful.

Now we're in the long wait. Two weeks at least before we get to test. I am doing my best to distract myself. I've got an old-school game boy and pokemon, bread to make, a class I'm taking. Just one day at a time, trying to practice patience and self-love, accepting that Tarra loves me enough for everyone who never did.