I was recently invited to perform at a poetry/open mic that was celebrating Women's History Month, where I shared my latest poetry, a couple of favorite poems from one of my favorites, Dorothy Parker, and for the first time ever I shared a blog entry rant with an audience. I wrote it just for the occasion. I actually wrote it THAT night. I was so moved by a recent conversation, it just had to be done, and it seemed like the perfect occasion, and appropriate venue for it. So, here it be:
"THOSE LUCKY BASTARDS"
by Cynthia Rodriguez
I've never wanted kids. I've talked about this, and wrote about this before. Anyone who really knows me, knows how I feel about this issue on a personal basis. They know how my uterus goes into hiding just hearing about it. However, just because it's not for me does not mean I don't appreciate the miracle of birth. I know what a beautiful, and fascinating event it is. I've seen it happen live, up close, and personal, trust me. I have the utmost respect for ANY woman who can survive that.
Now, here's the thing. For almost a year now, I have been blessed to be in the most amazing relationship ever.* This woman,is almost half my age. She's beautiful, very loving, kind, and one of the sweetest people you could ever meet.
Okay. So this is the deal. She wants my baby. I mean seriously wants my biological child. And she is the ONLY one in my entire life that has made me even remotely consider the thought of parenting.
Now here's the challenge. I can't do that. And I don't think I need to explain why to anyone, right?
We have already discussed the several options of how we can possibly, in the future, make this happen. Because of the fact that same-sex couples cannot biologically reproduce together (not yet anyway, I'm sure someone will discover something someday and get obscenely rich over it), until then, we have to rely on things such as adoption agencies, sperm banks, and turkey basters.
Meanwhile, as we both ponder on what we understand is probably going to be a very pain-in-the-ass process for us, I have a conversation the other night with a friend of mine who shared with me about a semi- recent past pregnancy she had, and lost to a man who, in my opinion, was, for lack of a better phrase now, a piece o' shit.
"Walk away"? How can a man walk away from such a precious thing of their own making? Oh, how this angers me so. I think to myself, these men, these straight men anyway, have NO idea how lucky they are. To be blessed with this ability to physically connect with their female partner in a way that I will NEVER be able to connect with mine, and just to throw it away, like many of them do, there are just no words. Spreading their seed, and not giving a damn about it. Using, and abusing the mother of their children. Something so sacred. It makes me very sad. They don't appreciate it, and they don't realize what a gift that is.
I would do and give ANYTHING to be able to knock up my girlfriend. And not that I don't already, but I would treat her like a freakin' GODDESS. She'd be on a pedestal. I'd be like, "That's right. She is carrying MY baby." (Not "SPERM DONER # 268")
These guys betta reco'nize. They are some lucky bastards.
* For those of you who are not aware, YES, I am in a relationship. My first one in almost TEN years. I will be writing about that at another time.
and yes, I've come a LONG way from my first infamous Lesbiatopia blog rant:
"NOTES FROM A MIDDLE-AGED, JADED, BITTER LESBIAN"....