"There's no dad"

Let me introduce myself to everyone who will be sharing my reflections on being an openly lesbian woman in suburban New Jersey. My name is Stacy and I live with my wife Donna and our two children in a lovely town in Bergen County, NJ. We are moderate Democrats living in a community that embraces diversity, and thank God for that!

Our family has been warmly received by our neighbors, friends and family. It has become commonplace to see us volunteering at our son's elementary school and taking the children on family outings to Saddle River Park to ride bikes and stay in relatively healthy form. So, we have actually come to take it for granted that everyone is used to our family. I guess for some, it's still a shock to see two women raising two beautiful children.

Recently, we had to get a new passport for our nine year old son, Hunter (name changed to protect his anonymity). As we stood in line at the post office, the passport clerk was reviewing Hunter's birth certificate and kept looking at my license, and Donna's license, and back at the birth certificate. The eye contact became less direct, the scrutiny of the birth certificate became more intense, and finally she stated, "there's no dad."  Smiling confidently, I said, "No, he has two moms." The rest of the application process went smooth as silk, but that one moment stood out.

Yes, Hunter has two moms. And we decided to have Hunter and planned for him like any other couple who wants to have children and has fertility issues. I just happened to fall in love with a woman, so we needed a little help in the sperm department. That was nine years ago. Hunter has strong men in his life, such as uncles who teach him how to shoot a spud gun, fathers of friends who take him fishing and camping and allow him an escape from the estrogen-rich environment in which he lives.

And now, we have a little girl too, so we're doubly-blessed, and grateful for the adult divas in our lives who can help her learn the fine art of makeup application and fashion statements.


That moment at the post office was just that; a moment. There was brief discomfort, but it passed quickly. It's nothing compared to a lifetime of fear for some who don't live in communities as accepting as we do. I want to share our experiences with those young men and women living in remote areas who don't see Gay and Lesbian men and woman living lives as comfortably as their heterosexual peers. I also want to share our experience with adults who want to learn more about our world than they'll learn watching Jerry Springer or other outrageous reality tv shows.

So, I'll be sharing soundbites of our lives with you throughout my blog. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I believe it will give others of our GLBT community inspiration, and allies understanding that we share more in common than we have differences.