I've Been Lying To You

It's funny, I've read a few of your posts where you tackle the question "Explain the Name Behind Your Blog" and those post always make me think. Truth be told, I actually don't like the name of my blog. And I don't know what to do about it.

Firstly,  I don't identify with the word "lesbian" - I actually hate being called a lesbian and have always spoken of myself as, and identified with, the word "gay". All of my friends have a silent understanding that they will not utter the "L" word in my presence, when it is in the context of me. No offense to the lesbian race... I just don't like the word for me.

Secondly, although I initially liked the "crazy" addition, I think this blog has grown out of the humour-based writing that I started with. I try to be an advocate for mental health and it bothers me when people misuse and abuse the crazy label (though I think there is a fine balance between having a sense of humour about depression (is that possible?) and treating it with the respect it warrants). Anyway, it was flippant, and now I'm not so sure.

Thirdly - and this is twofold - in real life, I use the word "mum," not "mom". I will never be called "mom" by anybody. I'm originally from Britain, and grew up with my mother being "mum" and I'd like to keep that going down the bloodline. Also, I'm not a mother anyway. Yet. I hope to be soon, but not yet. False advertising.

So why the hell did I name my blog "Crazy Lesbian Mom"? Honestly? Because I have worked in web marketing and know search engines pretty well. Because I wanted to be found by other lesbian moms, so I named myself as an easily-searchable one. Because "Clinically Depressed Gay-Identified Woman-Who-Wants-To-Be-A-Mum-One-Day" wasn't an option (not that it was taken, or anything). I just wanted to make sure that I was found and that I stood out for other people who were looking for the same support network that I wanted to belong in. And I wanted to be memorable.

But it doesn't really feel like "me".

I think it's too late to change though, because I fear that if I change something that drastic, I will lose people. It's hard enough for me to make a visual change. And maybe it's my experience with failure at re-branding products for selling stuff. Perhaps I need to get my business head out of this.

I've already started to change the way I leave comments on other people's blogs by introducing my name as well as my blog name - usually "~Lex (Crazy Lesbian Mom)". I hope to drop the parenthesis soon so that I will start being known and remembered as just "Lex".

I don't even have that many visitors to the blog - and my visitor count is actually dropping - which is why I feel as though I can't lose anyone. Have any of you gone through a drastic change that can provide me with some insight? I know some of you have moved over to Wordpress for privacy, but I think all of you have kept the same blog name. Also, does anyone else regret their choice of blog name?

What's even more funny is that yes, I get traffic to the site, but do you know how many people end up on my blog after searching for "hot lesbian mom walks in on crazy sex party with twins"?? (or something along those lines). If there is one good thing about this blog name, it's that I take sick pleasure in the fact that a bunch of dudes are ending up on a boring lesbian's TTC blog when they're looking for some crazy-ass porn.

On a less important note, but still important to me: The baby shit brown colours of this blog make me think of... well, baby shit brown. And the colour of hospital psych ward walls. For those reasons alone, I really do want to change the look of this blog, though I'm having a few reservations. I keep a whole lot of people on my blogroll (I feel that it's important to keep updating it) and when I visit other blogs directly, I love it when the layout and look of the site helps me differentiate between the blogs I read. It's the immediacy of "that's Olive / Strawberry / Pom" rather than the "who dat? ohh, I remember now." Maybe people remember me as baby shit brown. Hmm... even more reason to change things. 

I don't know.

Those Guys and Their Trucks

I'm sitting writing this on an iPhone from an autobody shop in the city. Regardless of how confident I feel as a woman, I seem to just lose myself to the girls-know-nothing-about-cars stereotype as soon as I walk through the doors of a place like this. At least I have a stick shift, which proves that I can actually drive. And I pumped gas across the street, so hopefully someone from here looked over and could see that too. Ah well.

Devon and I live in a small town right now, about 45 minutes from the city. We both work in the city. This is also where all of our friends live, so really, we spend most of our time here anyway. We will be putting our beautiful condo on the market this spring/summer, so that we can move back here, where we lived before we moved. Our original plan was to buy, but I think we've realized that there are a few more important things than buying a half-million dollar 700 square foot 40-year-old apartment in the city... because that's what we'd be able to afford.

Why don't we stay in our cute little town in our great little condo?

I want to be able to walk down a street, holding my partner's hand, without those guys hanging out the windows of their Ford F-150s with the fake testicles hanging of the back of their hitches. Tennis balls on a string, or the "real" fake kind. I want to be able to go out to a coffee shop around the corner from my home and see other gay people - not just that one time 3 years ago when we saw a man with pink glasses and a lisp (who was probably just visiting). I want to meet other "alternative" families and I want my kid to grow up in a community where it's okay to have two moms or two dads... maybe even in a community where there's a few kids in the same types of families. I want my kid to know that it's okay if you're gay (insert Avenue Q soundtrack here) and it's even more okay if your parents are gay.

I don't have any time for people who aren't accepting. So, we move from hick-town, pack away the wife-beaters, and enjoy the cosmopolitan, inclusive feel of this great Canadian city.

I can't wait.

Timing This Secret

Most of my friends know how keen I've been very on having babies and a few of my closer friends know that it has been a source of a bit of tension with Devon & me. I have been quite vocal about it through the years, and it is no secret to those who know me that having a child is important to me.

But, I have chosen not to tell anyone about the latest movements on us creating a family... except for one person, who I told today. I will say that the choice to keep it to myself has a lot to do with this community of bloggers - you! - that I have been exposed and introduced to. It's not that this community has made me more secretive, but I have realized that by being immersed in people who are going through similar things, I feel incredibly supported, and I feel that I can be open and honest (as open and honest as one can be behind the obvious anonymity of online life) about this journey. I can go online and "tell the world" what is going on, without the pressure, stigma, and constant questioning that I imagine would come if I told all my friends right now.

I told Dev that I wanted to keep this to myself, but that if she wanted to talk to people, I would support it. We decided to tell one person each. I wanted to celebrate with someone in real life, which was really cool to do today. It was in the cafeteria at work, so it was a bit under-the-breath-ish, but she got the idea, and was so happy and excited for me. 

I chose her for numerous reasons. She is not my closest friend, by any means, but I feel as though she is the most trustworthy. She's a clinical psychologist, and I know she takes the ethics of privacy incredibly seriously. I just know that I will never have to worry about it being "leaked" to my ever-gossipy members of our circle of friends. She is also a mom, who has struggled with guilt issues of hating her pregnancy and having a tough time with her kid, especially when people's expectations of her were so high. She is also a head doc, so she is sooooo understanding about the whole medication issue, and we talked about the stigma of that today. Basically, I feel incredibly safe with and supported by her, and I feel like I can talk with her about anything. Score.

I honestly don't know when the right time is to tell others, especially my family. I have never written here about my relationship with my parents, which is very layered. We are closer now than ever before, and I'm at a place where I do share a lot with them, but I just don't think I want to go there. That said, I don't know when to do it. Obviously their support is important, and I do want them to be a part of this journey, but right now, the only thing I can imagine is talking with them when I have to... when I'm showing... and I really don't know if that's the best strategy. Doubtful.

Unfortunately, both my mother-in-law and father-in-law are dead, so there are no grandparents on that side. I never got to meet either of my in-laws, but Devon and her mom were so incredibly close, and it does make me incredibly sad that Dev won't be able to share this with her mom. From what I know about her mom, she's the kind of woman that I would love to have in our kids life. Hopefully some part of her will know, and she'll keep an eye out, in her guardian angel way.

I don't necessarily want to keep things from people, or be untruthful, but I need to find a good balance. I hadn't even thought of what to say if people just flat-out asked me, which I had to figure out pretty fast yesterday when a friend asked where Devon and I were with the decision. I just blanked, swallowed, and said, "I guess it's still on the table". 

When is it safe to tell? Is it silly to think I can keep this a secret for months... years... ? Am I just going to show up at a family and friends social event in a maternity moo moo, 6 months preggers?

Yikes.

How 'bout we make an appointment at the damn clinic first?!

Oh yeah, haven't done that yet...

The New Girl (and a thank you)

I'm new to all of this. New to a community who wants, is trying, or has expanded a single life or partnership into a family. New to a community who is versed in the conception lingo - TTC, IVF, HPT, 2WW... and a whole bunch of others that I've yet to learn. New to a community who are lesbians. That's right, I don't really even have "real life" close lesbian friends.

I don't live in a small town and I'm not sheltered by any means. I know gay people; I have gay friends. It's just that I don't make a point of making more gay friends for the sake of making gay friends. People come into my life as-is and I start relationships as-is, regardless of gender, sexuality, faith or age. I don't have a lesbian community, and until recently, haven't really felt the "need" to have one. I am just gay and living my life; nothing to see here. I married for love, not politics. I want equal rights, but I am not the woman you'll see marching with a flag in my hand to fight for them. I'm blessed to live in a country where I got to marry the woman I love by getting the same marriage license as the straight couple in the line in front of us at the local drug store. (Yay Canada!).

I haven't felt the need to seek a community, until now. When I first got serious about putting my dreams of being a mom into actions, I went online to read - to see how others have done it. And now, I'm scratching the surface... I started to blog about the beginning of my journey into motherhood, but I honestly feel as though I've been a bit of an imposter.

Life got in the way. Relationship troubles have put the baby plans on the shelf for the time being. Chronic pain has stopped me from starting the process of having a baby. My mental health has made the baby take the back seat. But, that is life. That's my life.

My wife doesn't know about this blog. It's not that I'm hiding it from her - I will show her next year, when we are "allowed" to talk about babies (according to our therapist and our decision). We made a deal that I would not pressure her to walk this road with me for three months, as long as she could tell me in January whether she's truly committed and ready for this whole TTC journey (an abbreviation I will have to explain to her). The next three months, we focus on us.

She bought us books last year to get ready. She dreamed with me about parenting. She thought up baby names with me. And then our relationship took a hit, and dreaming got put aside so that healing could start. And that's okay. I'm actually grateful for it; although this whole not knowing is tough, I recognize that I have an incredible woman who, regardless of whether it's just us and our cats, or us and our cats and a dog and a baby, I want to be with, am lucky to have, and can't wait to live my life with her.

So, for all of you who are ahead of me in the family or trying-for-a-family department, I just want to thank you for paving the way, for writing so honestly and openly about being lesbians and starting families - or having trouble starting families. I will join you soon, and I can't wait. I know very few of your names. But I'm getting to know many initials and nicknames, URLs, and some of your beautiful families through photos. I read every comment you write and truly appreciate the time you take to read, and feel supported by your responses. I feel as though I'm building a strong foundation before starting off on a treacherous and exciting journey, and that foundation  - this community - is vital. (I almost feel as though I'm coming out of the closet again).

For now, I hope that you'll let me be a part of your community: one that I'm realizing is stronger than I'd ever imagined would be out there. You are inspiring, you make me laugh, you make me cry, and I want to be like you. One day, I will be like you. I'm already on my way there.

[photo credit]