The Republic of T.

The last few months have been eventful ones for our family, as we were devastated by the loss of one baby and then blessed with the arrival of another; Dylan. When I look at Parker—the little boy he’s grown into, and the great big brother he’s already showing himself to be—and I look at Dylan—how vulnerable he is and how he’s changing and getting stronger every day—I’m amazed that some people like the Maryland Court of Appeals would deny my family equal rights and protections because the hubby and I did not and could not conceive either of the two children we will spend the next 18 years or so raising, and the rest of our lives loving.

“Looking beyond the fact that any inquiry into the ability or willingness of a couple actually to bear a child during marriage would violate the fundamental right to marital privacy recognized in Griswold, 381 U.S. at 484-86, 493, 85 S. Ct. at 1681, 14 L. Ed. 2d 510, the fundamental right to marriage and its ensuing benefits are conferred on opposite-sex couples not because of a distinction between whether various opposite-sex couples actually procreate, but rather because of the possibility of procreation.”
-Judge Glenn Harrell, Jr.

Now, the court ruled that my family doesn’t have the right to marriage equality, but basically left it to the Maryland legislature. And even though the proposed gay marriage ban died in the legislature in 2006 and marriage equality legislation won has early support this year, it’s unlikely that anything will pass this year.

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It goes without saying that becoming a parent changes you in countless ways. I’ve heard it described as having your heart walking around outside of your body. I’ve heard it said that you learn to love in a way you never did before, and you learn to fear in a way you didn’t before. I know that becoming a husband and a father made me a lot more emotional than I’d ever been. I can access emotions now that seemed to be permanently walled off. I knew something was up the day I found myself crying while watching an episode of Oprah.

I’ve also developed a kind of “parent radar” or at least that’s what I call it. That is, I don’t just keep up with my own kid. When we’re out at a park, playground or social event. I keep an eye out for other kids too. It’s like I automatically scan the area and figure out which kids belong with which adults. (And which adults, at a playground or a park, aren’t there with a kid, a dog, or their jogging shoes.) And out of the corner of my eye I’ll spot a kid rushing headlong in to danger. Once I saw a toddler about to get hit by a bicycle—neither the bicyclist or his mother saw him in that moment—and pulled him out of the way just in time.

Maybe it’s because I see a little of my own children in every other child I see. Maybe I see that same vulnerability, and I’d want someone to look out for them if I wasn’t there. Maybe it’s not that unusual. No one wants to see a child hurt. Or at least most people don’t. Who wouldn’t try to save a child from harm, even if it’s not their own? After all, not being a parent doesn’t mean preclude anyone from loving or caring a child. And, unfortunately, being a parent—even to children they’ve conceived and birthed—doesn’t make some people any more inclined or equipped to deliver the love and care that comes after conception and deliver. Thus, this series.

child abuse, children, civil rights, courts, current events, family, gay rights, marriage, politics, same-sex marriage

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It’s inevitable that, since the poisonous parenting series started, someone who drops into the the middle of it without reading the previous posts (or perhaps without reading any of it) completely misunderstands the point of it. That’s what seems to have happened with one commenter on the previous post.

I am a black hetrosexual woman who reads your blog often. It is really bothersome that you choose to highlight the worst of the worst of hetrosexual parenting. How can we have meaningful dialogue about our differing views when all you do is degrade and mock hetrosexual parents?????

Of course, the point is not to “degrade and mock heterosexual parents.”
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Alabama’s gotten me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam

Nina Simone ~ “Mississippi Goddam”

I’ve been so wrapped up in another series that I’d totally forgotten about this one. But then I heard about Mississippi. Goddam.

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I fell down a bit of a rabbit hole yesterday. During a (rare) quiet moment, I took some time to catch up on my news/blog reading. And I finally started reading a collection of news stories that I’d quietly tucked away until I could actually bring myself to read them. I thought that would be a long time, because they were the kind of stories that I usually put out of my mind, because I can’t bear to think about them.

What started me was Katharine’s comment, which linked to Scott’s post about something Felix Fritzl said upon seeing the moon for the first time.

“Is that God up there?” - Felix Fritzl, 5, sees the moon for the first time since leaving the cellar.

And so it began.

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I was halfway through writing the previous post when I came across something that made me realize this would be a two-part deal. That’s when I cut the post short and wrote:

The last time we visited Parker’s pre-school, one of teachers said she remembered when we came there with Parker as an infant. She remarked about how well Parker has grown up, and was happy to see that we are raising Dylan too. I think I know what she sees when she looks at our family now. She sees a family with two devoted parents, and two thriving children.

What other people see, I can only imagine. And I can only wish I didn’t have to care.

But it’s obvious that I do have to care.

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As I write this, it’s getting late, and I’m tired. It’s the day after Father’s Day; the end of the day after Father’s Day. Aside from Parker’s usual swimming lessons, we had Capitol Pride.

We marched with the Rainbow Families contingency, after spending the afternoon decorating bicycles, strollers, and wagons, meeting other families, and watching the kids play with together. We walked with Parker on his bicycle and Dylan in his stroller. It was great, being together as a family, walking with other families, and hearing the cheers of support from the people watching the parade.

I should be asleep now, especially since it will be just a few hours before Dylan wakes up, and it’ll be my turn to get up and get him back to sleep. But there’s something I’ve been wanting to write about since the California Marriage decision came down; something that’s been on my mind since I read the decision. Something that changed in a way that overwhelmed me so much that I had to walk away from my computer for a few minutes. Something changed; or didn’t change, because its something I’ve always known is true. But just hearing it validated in a way it hasn’t been before … did something to me..

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I’ve never spent much time in or near family court. Even when Parker’s adoption was finalized, D.C. family court was having an “adoption day,” where almost nothing was on the docket but adoption finalizations. Our attorney told us that the judges really loved “adoption day, ” because it was such a welcome change from what they saw on a daily basis. But that day, we were so happy that we didn’t give much thought to what the family court judges see all day. After all, we hadn’t seen it.

But yesterday was different. We were among four families finalizing adoptions yesterday, but it wasn’t adoption day, so much as “adoption hour.” And we were in among the other families, who are in and out of family court for reasons a lot less joyful than our reason for being there. We sat beside some of those families, talked with them, saw the judge, finalized Dylan’s adoption, and went home.

I didn’t think much about the experience, until I got home and read the fallout from John McCain’s comments on gay adoptions.

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