Navigating the complexities of parenthood often leads to the inevitable question: “Who is her real mom?” To which the answer is simple: “Both of us.” But children have a knack for probing deeper: “But who is her REAL mom, the one who grew her in her tummy?”
This inquisitiveness can catch you off guard, especially when you realize that for kids, “real” doesn’t mean the same thing it does for adults. As I watch my daughter grapple with these concepts, I can’t shake the protective instinct to defend our family unit.
Growing up, I always envisioned myself as a mother. I cherished my dolls, nurturing them as if they were my own. I created elaborate scenarios, teaching them lessons and tending to their needs. One of my favorites, Emma, arrived in a bright red dress from a long-awaited delivery, much to the excitement of my neighborhood.
Fast forward to a chilly morning when I believed I wasn’t pregnant—again. But I took the test anyway, twelve days post-insemination. It was our tenth attempt, and my body seemed to be letting us down. Yet, that morning, I saw the positive result. With heart racing, I rushed to wake my partner, Sarah, who was still nestled in bed. I hesitated to share my hopes, fearing disappointment. But when she saw the test, joy erupted—this dream we had longed for was finally becoming a reality. We were going to be moms.
Before meeting me, Sarah didn’t think parenthood was in the cards for her. She believed that coming out meant relinquishing the hope of a family. Yet, in 2004, shortly after Massachusetts legalized same-sex marriage, we tied the knot, and five years later—there we were, on a beach in Cape Cod, cradling our newborn daughter from the sweltering sun.
In the early days of parenting, we each played our roles: I breastfed while Sarah changed diapers. We balanced work and home life to delay the need for daycare. Soon, our daughter spoke her first words—“book” and “Mama,” her term for Sarah. Six months later, she decided I was “Mommy.”
Our family dynamic flourished, with each of us contributing to our child’s life. “Riley, who is your real mom?” I asked one day. “Both of you,” she replied, rolling her eyes in that classic way only five-year-olds can.
As the years passed, our bond deepened, marked by kindergarten drop-offs, bedtime stories, and countless moments of love and care. Riley understands her donor story and knows how desperately we wanted her. She feels loved by both her Mommy and Mama.
So, who is the “real” mom? It’s both of us; every day, every night, our love grows stronger.
For those seeking insights into home insemination, check out this excellent resource on IVF and fertility preservation. If you’re interested in starting your own journey, consider this home intracervical insemination syringe kit or learn more about the Cryobaby kit for a comprehensive approach.
In the end, love defines family—not biology.
Keyphrase: real mom identity
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]