Updated: Aug. 3, 2023
Originally Published: Sep. 15, 2010
“Who is her real mom?”
“They both are.”
“But who is her REAL mom who grew her in her tummy?”
Children often pose these questions. A little girl, aware that she and her sibling were nurtured in their mother’s womb, is curious about the source of my child’s origins. For kids, the concept of “real” doesn’t always contrast with “fake” as it does for adults. While I appreciate the curiosity, I can’t help but feel the need to defend our family dynamic.
Growing up, I never anticipated that I would become a mother. I cherished my dolls, embraced the role of their caregiver, and even homeschooled them in our basement. I vividly remember Annie, the doll I received for my birthday from the Home Shopping Network, eagerly awaited by neighbors as I tracked the arrival of the UPS truck. Wrapped in plastic and nestled among colorful packing peanuts, she bore the label “HAND MADE IN GERMANY.” Together, we mastered the art of French braiding her long blonde hair.
One early morning, I was convinced I wasn’t pregnant once again, but decided to take a test anyway. It was twelve days post-insemination, our tenth attempt. My body seemed to be failing us, and we were depleting our funds in search of answers.
To my disbelief, the test was positive.
With bleary eyes, I rushed to our bedroom where my partner, Sarah, lay awake. I had kept my testing a secret to avoid disappointing her yet again. Her joy was palpable as she examined the test and confirmed our long-awaited dream was finally becoming a reality: we were set to be parents.
Initially, Sarah hadn’t envisioned herself as a parent, believing that motherhood was a sacrifice often faced by those in the LGBTQ+ community. However, we defied those expectations. We married in 2004, just months after Massachusetts legalized same-sex marriage. Five years later, we celebrated our anniversary on a Cape Cod beach, cradling our baby girl and shielding her from the sun’s rays.
So, who is the genuine mom? In those early days, I breastfed while Sarah handled diaper changes, and we took turns rocking her to sleep. We juggled remote work to delay daycare for as long as possible.
As she grew, her first spoken word was “book,” followed closely by “Mama,” which she used for Sarah. Six months later, she designated me as Mommy.
Our family of three—Mommy, Mama, and our daughter, Lily—was thriving.
“Lily, who is your real mom?”
“Both of you,” she replies, rolling her eyes dramatically. Now five years old, she has perfected the eye roll. She prefers her baths with Mama, claiming I get water in her eyes, yet she enjoys car rides with me due to my superior snack selection and the notebooks I share.
The connection I once felt through ultrasounds and breastfeeding has evolved into kindergarten drop-offs, brushing hair, and preparing meals. I comfort her during tears, share stories, and tuck her in at night.
Lily understands her origins; she knows about her donor and that she grew in my belly. She is aware of our deep desire for her and how much her Mommy and I cherish her.
So, who is the genuine mom? Both of us, every day and night, increasingly so with each passing moment.
For additional insights into the journey of home insemination, check out this helpful resource. If you’re interested in the latest research on fertility and pregnancy, Science Daily is an excellent resource.
In summary, the concept of motherhood can take many forms. Our family, built through love and determination, showcases that both partners can be equally regarded as “real” moms.
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